


Be My Safe Harbor

by athousandletters



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Manipulative Nick Fury, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Protective Avengers, Team as Family, but thats ok, shady shield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandletters/pseuds/athousandletters
Summary: In a world where SHIELD isn't as altruistic as it seems, Natasha is locked into a contract with them unable to turn-down missions or quit the organization. After the Battle of New York, Natasha is named an Avenger, much to the World Council's disapproval. Living with the Avenger's has been an adjustment, especially when she comes home to the Tower after a particularly brutal SHIELD mission and the Avenger's find out about her contract.Basically the Avenger's help Natasha gain the freedom she deserves and help her heal from the trauma of her past.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Avengers Team, Natasha Romanov & Thor, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 57
Kudos: 179





	1. Always a Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> I love Natasha fanfics, but it's hard to find ones where Natasha is the focus and not a periphery character. So I decided to write one. Trigger warnings for typical genre violence and trauma usually associated with Natasha's story arc. Hope you all enjoy!

Clint sat at the communal breakfast bar in Stark Tower, alternating throwing kernels of popcorn to himself and Thor who sat across the room on the gigantic, ridiculously comfortable “L” shaped sofa. The God of Thunder (and literal embodiment of a golden retriever puppy) got a kick out his trick shots and unfailing aim. Plus it was extra buttery popcorn. The Avengers had decided to stay up and movie marathon, which was something they did now. 

This Avenger’s thing was still new, so new it gave Clint whiplash if he thought about it too deeply for more than five seconds; but (surprisingly), it was going well. Really well. Really really well. The team was getting along. The trauma of the battle of New York had pulled everyone close enough to get past the initial walls they all put up to keep people out. It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, but beneath the surface levelbickering over the TV and the snarky comments, the Avengers were becoming friends. Hell it was practically domestic. 

It would have been pretty much perfect, if he wasn’t so worried about Tasha. She was not adjusting to domestic. Not that anyone besides him could tell of course. Sure, she laughed with the team during dinners, and destroyed everyone during game nights, but Clint could tell she was just playing a part. She was wary, tense, treating all of the Avengers (except him of course) like one of her marks. She didn’t trust anyone in the Tower except him and even then that trust, was on unstable ground thanks to Loki. The team knew nothing about her or her past and she wasn’t sharing. And Clint refused to betray her trust, even if the knowledge would help the Avengers understand the young assassin. He also worried because she was the only one of the Avenger’s having to play double-duty between Avenging and SHIELD. SHIELD had no power over Thor. Stark was a billionaire and too public a figure to be brought into the fold. Steve had politely, but firmly, turned down SHIELDS offer for employment and Banner was too much of a wild-card. Clint had been let go following the events with Loki’s scepter. Fury had said he was compromised. A liability SHIELD couldn’t afford. Which stung. Hard. And left Natasha in SHIELD, by herself, with no one to watch her back. 

Clint had tried to argue for SHIELD to release Nat from her contract to them, but Fury wouldn’t have it. It was conditional in Natasha’s contract when she defected from Russia that if she “quit” SHIELD, her immunity would be revoked and the she would be executed for her past crimes. It was harsh. And Clint had begged for the contract to be revised hundreds of times after Nat had proven her loyalty and just overall goodness again and again. The World Council wouldn’t budge. So Nat was left in SHIELD, atoning for crimes she didn’t even have a choice in committing, while spending the rest of her time as an Avenger. The World Council almost didn’t let Natasha even stay on the team, but a firm dressing down from Captain America and a few passive aggressive threats from Stark about some government SuperPac losing his contributions, and they came around. 

So he was concerned. There were good people in SHIELD. People that he trusted. But there numbers were dwindling fast and they couldn’t always be there for Nat like he was when they were partners. Now they had her working alone. Nat had been gone on her mission for SHIELD for 2 weeks now. 2 weeks with zero contact and no idea what she was doing or where she was. Fury refused to tell him what kind of mission he had sent her on. Maria had at least been sympathetic, but she insisted she couldn’t disclose classified information. So all Clint could do was wait, and hope the damage wasn’t too bad for the little spider. 

——————————-

Natasha limped into the elevator at Stark Tower and thanked all the gods she didn’t believe in that it was late enough for the boys to be asleep. She was exhausted and still filled with post-mission anxiety, making her hyper-aware of her surroundings even as her mind desperately was trying to shut itself down and rest. Everything hurt and yet all she felt was numbness and exhaustion. Nat planned to stop at the kitchen and grab Tony’s good vodka before making her way to her room and drowning herself in liquor until unconsciousness claimed her. That mission had been a bitch and the faster she compartmentalized it and forgot about it the better. 

Nat leaned her entire body weight against the walls as the elevator lifted itself smoothly to the top floors of the tower Stark had renovated for the Avenger’s use. It was really nice. The nicest place she’d ever gotten to live. She even found herself feeling _safe_ within the glass walls of the skyscraper. Which just meant it couldn’t be trusted. At least not forever. All good things come and go, like the tides against the sand, and it was best not to get used to anything. Best to stay as unattached as possible. It was safer for everyone that way. 

The elevator came to a smooth halt after what felt like eternity, even though it had been less than 30 seconds. A soft ding accompanied the swoosh of the opening doors and Nat looked up from her momentary trance to see the communal floor of the tower was not empty like she had imagined, but filled with the whole team. And they were looking at her, with various facial expressions ranging form shock to horror. 

Nat blinked slowly trying to get her sluggish mind to cooperate. She was made. If she ran now and retreated to the elevator without going out, they would follow after her. It was best to just do this now. Rip the bandaid off so she could crawl back to her room and sleep for the next year. 

Nat limped gingerly out of the elevator, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on her ankle, and started heading directly to her original objective, the liquor cabinet, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Clint was the first to shake off his surprise (of course) and cut off her path to her objective almost immediately. 

“Hey Tasha,” Clint said softly while reaching his hand out to gently touch her bruised cheek. Nat flinched violently away from his hand, her subconscious preparing for a blow that never came, unable to conceal the reaction from the room. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I should have asked before touching you. I’m sorry”, Clint reassured, pulling his hand back slowly and keeping his body posture open and relaxed. 

Nat’s heart was beating wildly inside her chest, memories from the mission and her past were swirling together too quickly for her to comprehend, making it hard to regain what was left of her composure. 

Clint took in Natasha’s appearance while she worked to slow her heart rate and regulate her breathing. She looked like she’d been through a war zone. Her hair was falling in lose, red tangles, bits of dried blood and debris causing it to clump in places. Her face was covered in blood that seemed to be coming from a nasty cut on her forehead. Her cheek was bruised and her lip was busted and split opened. It would probably need stitches. She was wearing a small black dress, that was ripped up the side of her leg revealing hand shaped bruises on her thighs and hips. The left shoulder strap was completely torn away, leaving half the dress to sag lower on her chest. Her feet were bare, her left ankle swollen and misshapen. 

He was going to kill Fury. Clint felt his rage swirling in the pit of his stomach but he kept his posture and face open and relaxed, staying as non-threatening as possible. If the mission was the type of mission he thought it was, Nat was going to be in a complicated headspace. 

“You look like shit Nat,” in what he hoped sounded like a teasing, light tone. “Let’s get you over to the couch and Bruce can take a look at those wounds.” 

Nat immediately started to protest, but Clint cut her off, gently but firmly. “No butts Nat. It’s either Bruce or medical.” 

Clint waited patiently for Nat to choose what she wanted to do, even if he already knew what her choice was going to be. He tried to never take choices from her. Tasha gave a small nod of her head in acquiescence and started limping slowly towards the couch, her eyes never making contact with the rest of the Avengers sitting unmoving, observing her and Clint’s interaction with equal parts curiosity and concern. 

Clint could see Steve struggling not to get up and offer his help to Natasha as she made her way painfully slowly to the couch. He seemed to know it was important to give her space right now. Bruce got up and quickly made his way over to the pantry where they kept one of their emergency first aid kits, while Tony headed over to the refrigerator to get Nat a bottle of water. Thor stood up and carefully rearranged the pillows on the couch for Nat so she would have a clear place to sit while Steve stood anxiously watching his injured team mate, ready to step in if Nat showed even the slightest hint of giving out. 

Nat collapsed gracelessly onto the couch with a sigh, her eyes closed, face drawn down with weariness and pain. Clint sat down next to her, careful not to shift the cushions too abruptly with his weight. “Can I hold your hand?” he questioned, gesturing to her clenched fists resting on her thigh. Nat uncurled her hand from the fist she was holding and interlocked her and Clint’s fingers in answer, relishing in the grounding touch. Clint always knew what she needed. No matter how much she tried to hide it from him. 

Bruce knelt down in front of her, opening the med kit and began pulling out antiseptic creams, bandages, stitches, and other various supplies. He looked up and Natasha was pleasantly surprised not to see an ounce of pity in his gaze. Only concern and clinical professionalism. “I’m going to look at your head wound first, check and make sure you don’t have a concussion, than I’ll take a look at your ankle. I need you to tell me if you have any other serious injuries. I’ll be quick and we can ask the rest to leave if you’re uncomfortable.” 

Nat looked uncomfortable, eyes darting around the room taking in the rest of her team before settling on Bruce again. She debated if it would be worth lying about. Whether it was the exhaustion not making her think straight or the comforting squeeze of Clint’s hand around hers, Nat realized she was tired of lying to her team. Tired of hiding who she was and what she did from them. They were going to find out she was a monster, a trained killer on a leash eventually; so it might as well be now. Let them see how broken she was, than maybe they’d leave her alone. Stop trying to be her friend like she was a normal fucking person who knew anything about friendships. She didn’t need them. She only needed Clint, but he was different. He was safe. Nat made a decision. She would answer all of their questions truthfully tonight. No tricks, no deceptions, no masks. Good things never last anyway. She owed these men, her team, that much. 

Nat nodded to herself, breaking eye contact with Bruce and looked down submissively at her and Clint’s joined hands. She took one last breath in through her nose and released it slowly before rattling off her list of injuries. “I think I have a broken rib, my back has multiple lacerations, nothing life threatening, general bruising, and I’m going to need you to test me for STDs.” 

There was brief moment where everyone held their breath, than Bruce being the saint he was broke the silence. “Ok I can work with that. Thank you Natasha. Once I’m done with your ankle, we’ll look at your back and take a blood sample that JARVIS can run a panel on. Sound like a plan?” Bruce asked while gathering the supplies he would need. Natasha nodded her consent and Bruce began wiping the blood from her face, directing the rest of the Avengers to grab him bowls of water and clean rags. Tony handed Natasha the bottle of water wordlessly. Nat took the bottle from him with a small smile in thanks and began drinking the water in controlled sips. Bruce continued working, keeping up a running commentary of the what he was doing as he was doing it and checking in with Natasha frequently before starting something new. It was nice. No one at SHIELD medical had ever been so considerate with her while treating her. 

Bruce cleaned the wounds on her face checked her ankle, sprained not broken, and finally made it to her back. Natasha moved her hair to the side and turned around in the couch so her back was facing Bruce. Nat felt Bruce unzip the back of what remained of her dress and clenched her eyes shut as she heard Steve swear and stand abruptly. This was it. The beginning of the end. 

Natasha felt Clint squeeze her hand tightly trying to ground her, as she started trembling. “Lady Natasha, who did this to you? By my word as the future king of Asgard, I will hunt them down and bring them to justice”. Thor declared, a dangerous inhuman rage in his eyes. 

“I appreciate the thought Thor, but there is no one left to hunt down. I killed them all already.” Natasha stated cooly, her face and voice void of all emotion. The only thing betraying her anxiety the trembling of her small frame. 

Steve came around and sat down beside Natasha, opposite of Clint. His face had the same look it did every time the Avenger’s did something during a mission he called “unnecessarily risky”. “Natasha, what kind of mission was this? I know it came from SHIELD, but if something went wrong we need to let Fury know.” 

Natasha continued to study her and Clint’s hands, refusing to look up and meet Steve’s eyes. “The mission didn’t go wrong. It went exactly as planned. SHIELD got intel on a human trafficking ring, and the big bosses wanted them taken out. I was instructed to infiltrate the ring and take them out from the inside. I allowed myself to be taken hostage , let them do what they wanted to me, then when they brought me to the bosses, I killed them all and stole all of their digital records for SHIELD to analyze.”

“Fury knew about this?!” Steve exclaimed angrily, his voice thundering through the living room and bouncing off the glass windows. Natasha jumped away from Steve and curled in on herself, keeping her head down and leaning into Clint’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just did what I was ordered to do. I’m sorry.” Natasha continued mumbling apologies while trying to bury herself as much as she could into Clint’s torso, his arms coming up around her protectively as he glared furiously at Steve. His dropped his glare almost immediately after seeing the devastated look on the Captain’s face. Steve moved slowly to the floor, kneeling in front of Clint and Natasha, his face full of remorse at his sudden outburst. 

“Nat it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I’m angry, but I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at Fury for sending you on a mission like that. I’m upset that you were hurt so badly. I’m you team leader. I’m supposed to look out for you and protect you and I failed. I’m so sorry Natasha. Can you please accept my apology?” He was so earnest and sincere. Natasha had never been apologized to like that before. There was always a reason behind an apology. Some sort of manipulation. But Steve was sincere. His eyes begged for forgiveness. Natasha wasn’t even sure he had done anything wrong. She was the problem, not Steve. But here he was kneeling before her, guilt in every line of his face.

Natasha reached out and cupped Steve’s cheek with her hand and wiped the single tear that had fallen from his eyes with her thumb and nodded. The look of relief on Steve’s face was instant. 

“Nat, when you’re ready, I need to finish cleaning and bandaging your back. I don’t want the lashes to become infected and scar, “ Bruce said gently, but firmly from his spot beside Steve. 

Natasha whimpered so quietly into Clint’s shoulder that he was sure no else had heard her, before shifting back into her original spot, back facing Bruce, her hand still gripping Clint’s like a life line. 

Tony came forward, no hint of his usual smirk or swagger evident on his face and leaned against the back of the couch, facing Natasha. 

“Like capsicle said, you’re apart of our team Romanoff. I know you’re this badass spy who’s used to working alone, but you’re not alone anymore. You have us. Please, if not for your sake, than for ours, the next time Fury comes to you with a mission like that just turn it down. No one will think less of you.” 

Natasha felt Clint stiffen at her side and it was her turn to squeeze his hand in reassurance. “I can’t,” whispered like a confession into the spacious room. “I’m not allowed to turn down missions. It’s apart of my contract with SHIELD when I defected from the KGB. If I refuse a mission or quit, my immunity is terminated and I will be executed for the crimes I committed while working for the Russians.” Natasha looked up then, meeting Tony’s gaze, “Which I deserve. I murdered hundreds of people in cold blood. Women, children, innocent, guilty, it didn’t matter. I will always be the weapon _they_ made me to be. At least now I can be used for good. To make the world safer.”

Tony turned away from her, his shoulder’s shaking with an emotion Nat could not 100% identify. It had to be rage, or disgust, at her. She was a monster. A weapon forged by the Red Room, utilized by the KGB to its fullest capacity, and now controlled by SHIELD. She couldn’t be trusted on her own. She was too dangerous, too unpredictable, too willful to be allowed complete freedom. SHIELD at least gave her the semblance of a normal life. She had friends she cared about, a roof over her head, she didn’t have to worry about her handlers coming into her room at night. And while the missions were familiar, at least she could go to sleep knowing she made a small difference in her ledger dripping with the blood of innocents. Natasha understood Tony’s reaction. Expected it. Nothing ever lasts. 

“I’ll have my stuff moved out of the Tower in the morning. Once Bruce is done, I’ll call Maria and have her pick me up and take me to my room at SHIELD. I won’t bother you all anymore.” Natasha fought with the last of her remaining strength to keep her voice even, with only partial success. She kept her head down, eyes focused on the threads of the couch, trying not to upset the Avenger’s anymore than she already had. Nat didn’t realize she had locked up all of her muscles until Clint started to slowly stroke the back of her hand with the fingers of his free hand. She tried to loosen the tension in her body, but experience had taught her this was when they would turn on her. Yell and scream and strike out with their disgust and disappointment. She would take it. She had lied to them, it was what she deserved. 

Tony was pacing now, running his fingers through his hair frantically like he does when he’s stressed. 

Bruce finished cleaning and bandaging the last of the lash marks on her back and tapped her shoulder to let her know to turn around again. He quickly prepped her arm and took two vials of blood for testing, before gently removing the needle and placing a Captain America Bandaid to stop the bleeding. 

“Ok, I’m calling a team meeting right now. Everyone circle up” Steve stated using his patented Captain America voice. Tony stopped his pacing and plopped down heavily on the couch next to Thor. 

“Natasha, I think I speak for all of the team when I say we don’t want you to move out. You’re an Avenger and we want you here. We don’t expect you to leave the Tower.” Steve spoke firmly, confidently. There was no hesitation in his voice to suggest he was lying. Nat looked up and saw the other members of the team nodding their heads in agreement. 

“ I don’t understand. What are you going to do to me than?” Events were not unfolding the way Nat had thought they would, and it was freaking her out a bit. She had no idea what they had planned for her, what her punishment would be, and she felt herself lose what remained of her self control as her body started shaking forcefully with the tremors running up and down her spine. 

Nat felt Clint wrap his arms protectively around her shoulders and pull her into his body. Nat calmed slightly. Clint would never hurt her. Clint would be there for her once the punishment was over. Like he always was. 

Steve knelt in front of Natasha again, the emotion on his face not making any sense considering the discussion that was taking place. “You aren’t in trouble. We aren’t going to do anything _to you_. No one in this room is going to hurt you in any way, I swear it to you. All we want to do is help you. That contract SHIELD has over you is wrong. You have more than earned your freedom.” Steve turned to Clint and looked him in the eye, “Did you know about this?”. 

Clint nodded, “Yeah, I’ve known from the start. I was the one that brought her into SHIELD. I thought at first that clause was in there because she hadn’t earned their trust yet. I tried to get them to change it, but the World Council wouldn’t budge and Fury’s to paranoid and stubborn to change his mind.” 

“Well fuck Fury and the World Council. Natasha isn’t a weapon. She’s a human being and what they’re doing is tantamount to slavery. My lawyers will have that contract picked apart by tomorrow morning. I’ll throw a lawsuit at SHIELD so ironclad they won't be able to fight it without losing everything. JARVIS, send Pepper the file I just uploaded. I want the legal team to drop everything and start working on this now.” 

“We’ll have to talk to Fury too Steve. First thing. Maybe we can negotiate peacefully. Have Natasha’s contract terminated on the condition she works for the Avengers.” Bruce added thoughtfully. 

“That might work Bruce. Besides the World Council doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Black Widow was seen on national television with the rest of us saving the world from the Chitari invasion.” Steve said resolutely with all of his star-spangled confidence. 

“I too shall vouch for Lady Natasha’s honor before this Midgard council.” 

Natasha didn’t fully understand what was going on, but for some reason, they weren’t angry at her. They wanted her on the team. Were willing to fight SHIELD for her. It was overwhelming and confusing and unexpected. It was too much for her to process, and she could feel her mind starting to shut down. 

The last thing she heard before unconsciousness claimed her was Clint’s voice calling out her name. 


	2. Lessons on Self-Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I hope everyone continues to like the story. *Trigger Warnings for violence and allusions to past trauma*

_Natasha could feel the metal of the restraints cutting into her wrists, as the man who’s breath smelled like cigarettes gripped her hair tightly and forced her small frame to bend over the desk. She knew where this was going. The second in command was a sadist first and foremost. Got off on humiliation and pain. Nat just had to endure this, like she’d endured everything else in her life, then tomorrow when the Kingpin arrived for his meeting with the second in command she would strike. Just one more day of this and she could go_ ~~ _home_ ~~ _back to the Tower. See Clint. Antagonize Tony. Do yoga with Bruce. Gently tease Steve until he blushed. Cook dinner with Thor. Just one more day._

_She felt Him move up behind her and grab her hips with his meaty hands, squeezing harshly. He ran his hand up her back from the base of her spine to the back of her neck, his hand splayed in a show of possession and dominance. His hand came around to the front of her throat and gripped tightly, before releasing her and stepping back. Natasha heard the grumbled command of “Hold her still” come from her tormentor, before she heard the swish of the whip and felt the lightening crack against her spine……_

“Natasha! Tasha! Wake up, its just a dream. You’re safe. It’s okay.” Natasha woke up suddenly, ready to fight, desperately trying to get her bearings. She heard a steady stream of reassurances coming from a voice she knew. A voice she trusted. Nat blinked and saw Clint’s form come into focus standing at the foot of her bed, body relaxed, hands raised in surrender. That was when Natasha realized she had a gun in her hand and was aiming it between Clint’s eyes, finger resting delicately on the trigger. Nat immediately lowered her weapon, clicking the safety into place and putting it on the nightstand. Close enough to provide comfort, but far enough away to reassure Clint. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t worry about it. How many times have I put a knife to your throat after you’ve woken me up?” Clint said with a boyish grin. “Shit happens.” 

“True” Nat conceded with a small smirk, he had almost slit her throat on multiple occasions during missions. Neither one of them ever woke gracefully. “What are you doing in here?” 

“I came up to check on you. You passed out last night, you’ve been sleeping pretty hard for the last 10 hours or so.” 

Natasha did the math quickly in her head. It was about 1 o’clock in the afternoon. She was supposed to be at the New York Shield Headquarters to debrief her mission in one hour. She was going to be late. Fuck. 

Nat jumped up quickly from bed and immediately regretted it. Her ribs screamed at her in protest while the lashes on her back tightened angrily and her foot throbbed. 

“Whoa Nat, slow down. Where’s the fire?” Clint asked while coming around quickly to her side to support her weight and lower her abused body gently back down on the bed. 

“I have to be at SHIELD in an hour for debrief. I can’t be late, you know what happens if I’m late.” Nat rushed out, trying to get back up again so she could get dressed and get out of here. If she hurried, skipped food, and broke every traffic law between the Tower and SHIELD she’d make it on time, with a few minutes to spare. 

Clint caught her shoulder, gently preventing her from getting up again and looked her in the eyes. “You’re not going into SHIELD today. You’re not going into SHIELD ever again as far as we’re concerned. Steve has already contacted Director Fury. Told him you weren’t going to make it and asked for him to come to the Tower to discuss your contract. He’ll be here soon.” 

Natasha froze, her veins filling with ice being relentlessly pumped through her body by her racing heart. They didn’t understand. She thought Clint did, but obviously he didn’t if he allowed Steve to go through with calling Fury. SHIELD would never let her go, she was too much of a liability. A factor too dangerous to not be controlled. And she was going to be the one to pay for all of this. Not Clint, or Steve, or Tony. Her. 

Clint must have seen her spiraling because he removed his hand from her shoulder and brought her hand to his chest so she could feel the steady rise and fall, a silent request to match her breathing to his. 

After a few moments of deliberate breathing, Clint interlocked their fingers. “Natasha, I know what you’re worried about, and no I haven’t told the others anything more than what you said last night. But I don’t need to tell them any more than they already know. We’re going to protect you, know matter what happens today. You don’t need to worry about Fury, the World Council, or SHIELD ok? We’ve got this covered, we've got you covered. No matter what.” Clint took a pause as he studied Nat’s face. She looked apprehensive. Which meant on the inside she was probably still panicking. “Do you trust me?” 

Nat looked up sharply then, meeting his gaze resolutely. “Always.” 

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Nat looked into Clint’s eyes and saw nothing but determination and resolve. “Okay”. 

“Okay.” Clint blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Let’s get you upstairs and get you something to eat. And don’t even give me that look I know you haven’t eaten in at least 24 hours. And you’ve probably haven’t eaten anything worth having in weeks. Caps making pancakes with strawberries and blueberries and enough bacon and sausage to feed an army.” 

“But its lunchtime,” Nat pointed out, while standing up gingerly and making her way over to her dresser to pull on an old Iowa State hoody that she had tactically acquired from Clint a few years ago and never gave back. 

“Yeah but breakfast foods are the best foods. Everyone knows that.” 

———————————

Natasha and Clint stepped out of the elevator into the common area, Clint (much to Natasha’s annoyance and embarrassment) supporting the majority of her weight as they shuffled to the breakfast bar. Steve was at the stove cooking what had to be enough pancakes to feed the entire Lower East Side. Thor was happily munching on a mountain of said pancakes, while Bruce sat next to him reading the paper and drinking his favorite jasmine tea. Tony and Pepper were there as well, both huddled over a Stark Pad, debating something or another in a hushed feverish back in forth language developed over years of partnership. 

Clint pulled out a chair for Nat to sit next to Bruce. A heaping plate of pancakes, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit, and a glass of milk appeared in front of Nat before she had even fully settled, courtesy of Steve. “Thanks Steve, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to eat all this”

“It’s no problem Nat. Eat as much as you want.” Steve said with a smile. “You should eat as much as you can though. I know you’re a naturally small person, but JARVIS pointed out you were a little malnourished after you… went to sleep last night.” 

“Are you mother henning me Rogers?” Natasha quipped with a quirk of her eyebrows and a playful smirk gracing her lips. Tony snorted behind his coffee cup. 

“No, no, I’m not _mother henning,_ I’m just pointing out what JARVIS said.” Steve stammered, an endearing blush coloring his cheeks. Nat sighed contently, “What ever you say Steven”. Tony was full out laughing now, which of course led to him and Steve being side-tracked into their own little verbal sparring match. 

Bruce shook his head in amusement at the two men’s antics then turned to Natasha as she began taking small measured bites of her food, despite her hunger. “How are you feeling Nat?” 

Natasha hummed in acknowledgment, swallowing down a bite of pancake. They were really fluffy. “Fine” she said dismissively. 

“Any swelling or inflammation?” Bruce asked further. 

“Not that I’ve noticed.” 

“That’s good. After you’re done I’d like to check your wounds again make sure there’s no signs of infection.” Bruce said giving her a look that brooked no argument. 

“Alright, but I’m perfectly fine. I don’t get infections easily and I heal fast.” Natasha tried to dismiss his concern. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you should be dismissive of your injuries.” 

Nat let the subject drop, not wanting to get in an argument with the doctor. If he didn’t look at her wounds now, Clint would make her go see him later. Might as well get it over with. Besides, he was better than all of the other doctors or medics she’d ever had to deal with before. She actually felt comfortable with him. 

Natasha did end up eating all of her food, which made Steve practically glow with satisfaction, then limped carefully without Clint’s help, much to his annoyance, to the living area and sat down on the coffee table so Bruce would have room to maneuver around her. 

Natasha discarded the hoody leaving her in only her bralette and sleep shorts. Nat raised an eyebrow as Bruce’s face turned an impressive shade of red from his blush. “Easy Nat, you don’t want to break Bruce. He’s fragile.” 

Nat snorted in amusement at Clint’s snarky comment, “Please its just flesh.” 

Bruce stammered for a second before he was able to get a recognizable sentence past his lips. “I just don’t want to overstep your boundaries or disrespect your privacy.” 

Nat softened at that and decided to put Bruce at ease instead of teasing him further like Clint seemed intent on doing if his shit eating grin was anything to go by. “You’re sweet Bruce, but I’ve never been one for modesty. Besides, Steve walks around shirtless all the time. I don’t see the difference.”

Clint kicked his feet up on the coffee table next to Natasha’s thigh, a cup of coffee balanced in his right hand as he twirled an arrow shaft he’d probably kept stuffed in the couch. “She’s gotcha there Brucey.” 

Natasha heard Bruce mumble something under his breath about snarky spysassins and their antics, before reaching for her foot and examining her ankle. Seemingly satisfied with that, he moved on to poking her ribs experimentally before moving around to her back. As he peeled the bandages off, Bruce grunted in dissatisfaction. 

“Some of the wounds on your back reopened. And a few of your stitches got pulled. What happened?” 

Nat looked over her shoulder trying to see what he was talking about, but gave up rather quickly with a sigh. She heard Pepper making her way over to the group as well, her heels clacking on the linoleum floor as she made her way over to the couches. 

“I probably pulled it this morning getting out of bed. I thought I was late for my debrief at SHIELD and I got up faster than I should have, until Clint told me Steve covered for me.”

Bruce hmm’d in acknowledgment, seemingly willing to accept this answer for now. It was Pepper that decided to dig a little deeper. 

“Do you always have to go debrief at SHIELD immediately after a mission, even when you’re severely injured?” Pepper asked, her tone and posture expecting a non-bullshit answer. There was a reason Tony put Pepper in charge of almost everything. 

“Yes, as long as I’m not hospitalized, I have to go debrief. And I wouldn’t exactly call these injuries _severe._ I’ve definitely had worse and been expected to do more than just sit in an office and talk.”

“Wouldn’t call this _severe_. Nat, honey, your face looks like you lost a fight with a cement wall, your back is in ribbons, you have more bruises than skin at the moment, and your ankle is fucked.” Pepper listed incredulously. “Not to mention it looks like you’re underweight and probably malnourished. You need to be taking a recovery day, hell a recovery week, not going into the office.” 

“Superficial, looks worse than it actually is, superficial again, and it’s only sprained.” Nat countered easily. “As for underweight, if Cap keeps feeding me breakfast like that everyday, I’ll be back to normal within a few days. It’s no big deal.” 

Pepper rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Ok super spy. What counts as a _severe_ injury for you?” 

Natasha didn’t even have to think about it. “Any injury that severely impedes mission readiness to the point of being unable to complete an assigned objective.” 

Natasha felt Bruce pause at her answer for some reason and saw Pepper furrow her eyebrows at her in consternation. What had she said to warrant that reaction? Pepper asked her a question and she answered it.

“What?” Natasha asked, a slight defensiveness coloring her tone despite herself. She felt Clint’s socked foot rub gently against her thigh in a soothing motion.

“Nat, I think Pepper was looking for something more along the lines of personal discomfort.” Bruce said gently, coming back around to her front to look at her forehead and check her eyes for remaining signs of concussion. 

Natasha was even more confused now. “Personal discomfort is apart of that assessment. Obviously, pain slows reaction times and can cause immobility depending on the severity.” Maybe they were concerned that she didn’t know the limits of her body. She could reassure them. “I know what my limits are. I was trained to know the limits of my endurance. I promise, this is no where close to what I can handle. You don’t have to worry, trust me.” 

Nat remembered lessons back in Russia on pain tolerance and perseverance. Standing in the snow in only night clothes, doing ballet on pointe with broken toes. Sparring with the other girls with a bullet in her shoulder. She knew her limits, where the line was between hindrance and life-threatening.

Pepper didn’t look reassured. She looked the opposite actually. Natasha watched as she took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders and reeling in her emotions before leaning forwards and speaking again. “Just because you can _handle_ or _endure_ something doesn’t mean you should ignore your bodies needs. I understand that your job is dangerous and that in the moment, ignoring discomfort and pain can be a useful ability. But, once the bullets are fired and the mission is over and you walk back through those doors, you don’t have to think like that anymore. You can take the time to heal and be vulnerable. Make Steve cook for you. Order Tony around. Cuddle with Clint. Lounge on the couch and watch shitty television while your body and your mind recovers from the trauma it went through. You’re allowed to take a moment and put yourself first Tasha.” 

Natasha didn’t understand why her throat was suddenly tight and her eyes were burning with an emotion she couldn't immediately name. She looked down, unable to hold Pepper’s gaze, and thought about the other red-heads words. 

Pepper moved from her spot on the couch and came to sit next to Nat on the coffee table. “Has anyone ever told you anything like that before?” She asked gently, taking one of Natasha’s hands in hers and lightly squeezing. 

Natasha didn’t trust herself to speak just yet and shook her head in answer. Pepper waited patiently, sensing Natasha had something to say, but was still gathering the words in her mind to say them. 

“Weapons don’t need to recover, they just need to work.” Natasha whispered softly, words she had heard some variation of a million times in the Red Room and at SHIELD. Words she always believed to be fundamentally true because no one had ever told her differently. Clint always showed concern when she was injured, tried to get her to rest. But he was Clint. He was different. He was the only one who saw her for what she was and didn’t care. He was the exception, not the rule. 

But here was this woman, a normal, successful, powerful woman, who had most definitely read what existed of her file in SHIELD. Had experienced her skills of manipulation and deceit first hand, and she wanted her to… what? Take care of herself first? Put her needs above the mission? She couldn’t. She physically and _legally_ couldn’t. It sounded nice though, like a fairy tale or a dream she had from _before._

Nat shook her head to clear it of the dangerous thoughts and emotions clouding it. She gently, but firmly, removed her hand from Pepper’s grip and stood steadily on her injured ankle, sliding the hoody back into place. “I appreciate the concern Pepper, Bruce, but I’m fine. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room writing up my mission report.” 

And with that, Natasha made a beeline towards the elevators, playing the conversation with Pepper and Bruce over and over again. Trying to figure out the angle. The purpose, how they got on the topic of her wellbeing. Nat waited impatiently for the elevator doors to open so she could escape to the isolation of her room. The elevator finally reached the correct floor and opened to reveal the last person Natasha wanted to see right now in her current state. Director Fury living up to every ounce of his name, glaring at Natasha with his one eye filled with judgement and suspicion. Natasha took an involuntary step back as Directory Fury invaded her personal space. “Romanoff,” Fury growled, lowly. “You want to explain to me why I was called out here by Captain America on your behalf?”


	3. Welcome Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you for all the awesome comments and kudos!! I'm glad y'all are enjoying the story so far, and I hope you will continue to like it. Here's Chapter 3! It got a little expositiony but I think its necessary for the story to move forward.

Nat felt her muscles lock on instinct as she straightened out her posture, despite her protesting ribs and the agony she felt in her back at the motion, automatically going to the position of parade rest with her hands firmly positioned in the small of her back and ducking her head subtly in deference to Directory Fury’s authority while avoiding eye contact. 

Nat swallowed to dispel the tightness in her throat before quickly replying to the man who controlled her life. “Please accept my apology, Sir. I didn’t know Steve was going to contact you today. I slept longer than I anticipated and he had already called you by the time I woke up.” Nat was happy to note her voice at least sounded collected and professional, despite the raging anxiety she was feeling as Director Fury continued to analyze her, looking for any signs of deceit or disrespect. 

She was saved from the Director’s reply by Steve’s approach, his facial expressions betraying his dislike of Fury in the furrowing of his brow and the clenching of his teeth, making his jawline stand out even more prominently than normal. Apparently he had heard the short exchange between herself and her boss, because his next words came quickly in her defense. 

“Nat didn’t know about our meeting until late this afternoon. As you can see, the mission _you_ sent her on left her severely injured. As her team leader, I made the executive decision to let her rest after she passed out from exhaustion last night, shortly after returning home. If you want to be upset at someone it should be me.” Steve was every inch Captain America as he confronted Directory Fury, despite his casual attire, his mere presence demanding the respect he had earned on bloody battlefields. 

Natasha wasn’t used to hearing people speak to Director Fury like that, let alone for her. Clint and Coulson (before his sacrifice) had always been her advocates. But there was only so much they could do. Fury was just as much their boss as her’s, granted the dynamics were definitely different. Even then, it was always requests for understanding (Clint), or cleverly relayed information that somehow always went in her favor (Coulson); never this direct confrontational approach Steve was taking. 

Fury turned to face Steve, completely dismissing Natasha’s presence and pointedly not giving her permission to relax her stance, his one eye appraising the Captain. “Well, Captain Rogers, you have my undivided attention. What exactly do you want concerning my operative?” To Nat, he sounded what she would imagine a high school principal would sound like addressing an unruly student. Patronizing, covered by a false tone of professionalism. 

Steve was unwavering though, gesturing with his hand towards the right of the elevator in the universal gesture of _after you_. “Let’s take this conversation to the conference room. Pepper and Tony are waiting for us.” Steve turned to face Nat, his face instantly softening as he took in her rigid stance. “Hey Nat, why don’t you go take a load off. Bruce said you needed to keep your weight off that foot for at least 24 hours for it to heal right.” 

He was giving her an out, one she would happily take. A lot of people underestimated Steve Rogers. They thought he was all muscle, no brains. But Nat knew better. While he couldn’t hide his own feelings for shit, he was exceptionally good at reading people. He hadn’t missed anything during their brief interaction with the Director. He saw how Fury kept her at attention, despite the Director’s own informal stance. One of the more subtle but favored power plays Fury used to remind her of her place in the system. In the past, he’d kept her in that position for hours, knowing she would never risk _disrespecting_ him by relaxing her stance without permission. 

Sometimes, Steve really was her favorite (except for Clint, he didn’t count). Nat nodded to the Captain as he directed Fury away from her, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder in support after Fury turned away from them. 

Nat felt a brief moment of relief quickly followed by a tidal wave of dread. Her future was being decided in the next room over and once again, she had no control over the forces moving her along their desired path. All she wanted was her freedom, longed for it with everything inside her, but she shut that desire down, hard. She would take the transfer of her custody from SHIELD to the Avengers. Hell, she would celebrate it. The Avenger’s would be better master’s than any she’d ever had before. So far, they’d treated her with nothing but respect and kindness. She could only hope they continued to do so after Tony and Steve found out about her past. Found out what she was capable of. The darkness she couldn’t control so other’s had to. 

All she could do now was wait for her fate and accept whatever outcome was decided, no matter what. 

——————————

Steve guided the director down the hall to the small conference room mostly used for small team meetings or as an impromptu office for Pepper when she visited. Steve could feel his dislike for the man in front of him growing with every second. He saw the way Fury wielded his control over Natasha, making her defer to him and maintain her disciplined, and glaringly submissive, stance despite the fact he _knew_ it was causing her pain. 

Steve never considered Natasha to be a submissive person until he watched her initial interaction with Fury. In Steve’s mind, Nat was a force of nature. Fearless, powerful, with an iron will he was in awe of. And he still thought that. If anything the last 24 hours had reinforced his opinion of Natasha, solidifying in his mind how much respect and admiration he held for the young assassin. But it disgusted him to think of his amazingly kind and selfless teammate having to diminish herself, in an act of self-preservation, all because of the terms of some cruel, antiquated contract. 

Natasha was one of his people, and no one hurts his people. He would do anything to protect her, just like he would for the rest of the Avengers. And if that meant taking on SHIELD and the World Council head on, so be it. Let them come. He’d faced nastier and won before. 

The small group gathered into the conference room, tension filling the air as no one made any indications towards sitting. Steve walked around the large table moving to stand in the vacant spot at Tony’s right side, leaving Director Fury alone on the other side of the table. The spy wasn’t the only one capable of playing mind games in order to make a point. 

The silence was eventually broken by Pepper, who quickly grew tired of the men’s posturing, preferring to get straight to the matter at hand. “We all know why we’re here today. I’ll be frank with you Director Fury. I’ve obtained a copy of Natasha’s contract through a third party who I shall not name, (Fury did not seem surprised by this information, Steve noted), and I’ve read it cover to cover. Honestly, it’s abhorrent. I’m not even sure of its legality for numerous reasons. Natasha is an American citizen, with all the rights and privileges associated with that citizenship. You have no right to keep her in a contract that threatens _death_ if she exercises her rights and removes herself from your organization to pursue new career opportunities. Furthermore, I checked the date this contract was signed with the personnel records Natasha filled out when she became an Avenger. She was a _minor_ when she signed this, all of 16 years old. How could you allow a _child_ to sign something like this! I would have thought the practice of utilizing child soldiers would be something SHIELD would be fighting to eradicate, but apparently I was wrong.”

Steve could feel his rage igniting the more Pepper venomously spoke to Fury, using her CEO persona to maximum effect. There was a fist shaped hole in Tony’s office from when he had first heard this information from Tony and Pepper in preparation for this meeting. He can’t believe his legacy, _Peggy’s legacy,_ had become so distorted from its original purpose and that it was being used to basically imprison Natasha. 

Fury did not look affected by Pepper’s words at all, his expression as unreadable as ever. He showed no signs of remorse or guilt. “Under normal circumstances Ms. Potts, I would agree with you. But these are not normal circumstances and as such, unprecedented measures had to be taken.” 

Tony leaned forward, the aura he used in board meetings and press conferences fully in place as he stared Fury down with contempt. “Do, _enlighten_ us, oh great Director Fury. Please. Justify _child enslavement_ for me,” Tony said in his most acidic and sarcastic tone. 

Director Fury pulled his hand out of the pocket of his long leather jacket, revealing an innocuous looking USB drive bearing the SHIELD logo and sliding it across the table, stopping inches from Tony’s hands. 

“That _child_ you are referring to, is and was, the most dangerous covert operative the world has ever seen. By the time she was 16 years old the Black Widow had toppled governments, had more confirmed kills than any other assassin in the game at the time, let alone the ones she didn’t take credit for. If you don’t believe me its all right there. The hospital fire that consumed a children’s ward, the torture and subsequent murder of an Ambassador’s 8 year old daughter. And those are the least of her crimes. Her history is written in the blood of innocents before she came to SHIELD. The only reason she _wasn’t_ executed with prejudice is because of her age.” Fury’s voice gained in volume as he spoke. Conviction fueling his tone as he spewed information about Natasha relentlessly. 

“Despite what it seems, I don’t blame Romanoff for her past, but that doesn’t mean I can ignore it either. The Red Room turned a child into the most dangerous weapon the world has ever seen, and they did so by breaking everything inside her that was human and replacing it with brutality. The Black Widow isn’t capable of loyalty or empathy. So SHIELD and the World Council took steps to ensure her obedience, so that her skillset could be used for the greater good. The Black Widow is the most effective asset SHIELD has ever had, but in the hands of our enemies, she could single handily destroy the Western world.” Fury let his words sink into the air with finality, his one eye daring them to refute his statements. 

He doesn’t have to wait long, because Steve is seething with indignation on behalf of his teammate, his friend. With one smooth motion Steve grabbed the USB containing Natasha’s past and crushed it in his fist, letting the broken pieces fall to the table in useless scraps.“I don’t need to know what kind of person Natasha used to be, because I know who she is now. And that person is a hero who put her life on the line to save billions of people. I don’t know what you think gives you the right to determine what the greater good is, but obviously your vision isn’t clear if you can’t see how much Natasha cares for this world and the people living in it.” 

Fury slowly shook his head at Captain America’s naivety. “You really don’t understand what you’re dealing with, do you Captain? The Black Widow is a master of manipulation and deceit. There isn’t a lie detector in the world that can determine if she is lying or telling the truth.” 

“I don’t need to know if she’s telling the truth. Natasha’s actions speak for themselves. She would never betray the Avengers.” Steve stated resolutely, his eyes drilling into the Director’s, imploring him to see beyond his paranoia. 

“Has Barton ever told you about the time Agent Romanoff nearly killed him and eliminated an entire Strike Team?” 

“What’s that got to do with anything pirate?” Tony asked exasperatedly, his patience with this conversation coming to an end. 

“Everything, Stark. Romanoff had been with SHIELD for about a year when we got serviceable intel on the location of the remaining members of the Red Room. I asked Romanoff if she would be capable of destroying her creators, and she expressed without hesitation her desire to kill them. I told her upfront it was a test of her loyalty. To prove once and for all that she could overcome her conditioning. She promised she would not fail. I believed her. But all it took for the Black Widow to turn was a few mumbled words in Russian and orders from her previous handlers. She killed the entire Strike Team and put a bullet in Barton’s shoulder, narrowly missing his heart. It took us two months to track her down and recapture her from the Russians. And the damage she inflicted in those two months was catastrophic.”Fury paused, gripping the back of the chair in front of him in a tight knuckled grip. 

“SHIELD doesn't need the Black Widow’s loyalty, only her obedience. She is too dangerous to not be controlled, monitored. I will not lose the most effective agent SHIELD has all because a group of overpowered vigilantes decided they want to adopt an assassin.” 

“All you’re doing is re-traumatizing her! It’s amazing she’s been able to hang onto any semblance of normality with the way you treat her like an object.” Pepper stated furiously. 

Fury gave a long suffering sigh, his annoyance starting to peak through his facade of control. “Allow me to be frank with you in return Ms. Potts. Agent Romanoff is an asset of SHIELD. This contract was approved by the highest authorities of multiple nations, including the United States. Any persons who help Agent Romanoff violate the contents of her contract will be charged with Treason and dealt with to the fullest extent of the law.” 

———————————-

They’d been in there too long. Natasha didn’t think she was capable of feeling this much anxiety, but she was proven wrong with every minute the meeting between Director Fury and leaders of the Avengers continued. Surely it couldn’t take this long. Maybe Fury was revealing every horrible deed from her past, spelling out the monster that lives inside her for Steve, and Tony, and Pepper to witness. 

The truth is, the conversation in the conference room could be going a million different ways and she had no way of knowing until someone walked out the door and told her. She hated this feeling of uselessness, leaving her helpless and at the mercy of others. 

And so she sat, her posture still as a statue, her face showing none of the internal war raging within her as she listened to Bruce, Thor, and Clint try to reassure and distract her from the meeting deciding her future. A distant part of her appreciated their efforts to comfort her but she was unreachable at the moment. The entirety of her being focused on the singular point of the doorway leading to the conference room. She could barely register they were speaking to her, let alone comprehend the string of words they were saying to her. 

The world moved sluggishly around her, passing by in frozen seconds that each lasted an eternity until suddenly the world was violently thrust back into motion with the slamming of the conference room door.

She stood immediately as Director Fury came storming out of the room, his black coat swirling around him dramatically, animosity written clearly into the lines of his face as he turned his gaze in Natasha’s direction. Natasha noted the boys and Pepper were following quickly behind the Director, looking frantic. 

That was all Natasha needed to see to know the outcome of the meeting. She felt the hope she had that she would be free from SHIELD shrivel inside her chest as she called on all of her past training to maintain her outer composure. _You are marble Natalia._

“Let’s go Agent.” Fury ordered, expecting to be obeyed. She felt her body automatically propel herself forward making her way towards Fury and out of the safest place she’d ever known. She doubted she’d be allowed to return after this. 

Her path was suddenly blocked by all 6’ 3” of Captain America. “Agent Romanoff will report in on Monday.” Steve said firmly. 

“And what makes you think, based on our prior conversation that I would allow that?” Fury asked, raising his single eyebrow in mock inquiry. 

“I’m making the call as her new partner and handler. Consider this my formal acceptance of your offer of employment. I’ll bring Natasha in on Monday for her debrief, after she’s had the week to rest and heal, and we’ll discuss the conditions of my employment.” 

Fury’s mouth turned up into a smirk as he eyed Steve. Natasha shivered at the look Fury was giving him. Like a snake who had backed his unwitting prey into corner and was reveling in its victory before swallowing it whole. “Welcome aboard Captain Rogers. SHIELD looks forward to working with you”. His gaze turned to Natasha, his smug smile never wavering. “Enjoy your recovery period, Romanoff. I still expect your mission report to be submitted before the end of the day. Is that clear?” 

Natasha managed to croak out a “Yes, Sir” as Fury turned away and disappeared just as suddenly as he arrived through the elevator doors and out of the Tower. 

A chill ran through Natasha as she made eye contact with Steve. They had played right into Fury’s hands. 


	4. I Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter. Sorry about the long wait, haven't had a lot of free time to write recently. Hope you all enjoy this next installment.

Natasha sat at the counter Monday morning, early enough that the sun hadn’t yet risen, drinking the tea blend Bruce had made for her and waited for Steve to show up. Nat glanced at the stove clock and saw 04:47 blinking back at her in blocky red characters. Yesterday, Steve said he’d meet her in the kitchen at 05:15 so they could carpool to SHIELD together. 27 minutes. 27 more minutes and maybe this anticipatory anxiety that had been sitting inside of her chest all week while she was supposed to be “ _resting_ ” would go away. 

Ever since Fury’s visit and Steve accepting SHIELD’s job offer, things at the tower had been….tense. At least they felt tense to Natasha anyway. She could feel something had shifted with the team regarding her and she couldn’t for the life of her understand what it was. She could feel the eyes of her teammates on her when they thought she wasn't paying attention (she was always paying attention), but when she would turn to meet their stares, they always looked away before she could identify whatever emotion or thought was causing them to analyze her. It made her more jumpy then normal. 

Steve and Clint had decided to take it upon themselves to enforce her “recovery period” that Fury had allowed her. No sparring, no weapons training, no exercising (an exception was made for yoga with Bruce because apparently that counted as _mental and physical healing,_ but no advance movements), and definitely no Avengers missions. She was effectively benched all week and looking back, she admits she might have gone a little insane. 

She knows that the boys (and Pepper’s) confrontation with Fury pissed the director off, the only saving grace to the whole ordeal being Steve’s recruitment. But even with that major victory in his back pocket, Nat knows Fury isn’t going to let this go and she knows who’s going to take the fall. What she doesn’t know is how Fury plans to act on his displeasure. And that was the predominant source of her anxiety. 

Fury’s unspoken threat was looming overhead, she was still coming down from a difficult mission, and all of her usual coping mechanisms were deemed off-limits by her team, leaving her to sit and stew in her thoughts while the Avengers flitted around her trying to be helpful but doing nothing more but cut her already frayed nerves further till her self-control was being held together by little more than a string. 

So it’d been a rough week, to put it mildly. Steve and Clint had both tried to talk to her at different points throughout the week, but she’d shut them both down with practiced efficiency. No, she didn’t want to talk about her last mission. No, she wasn’t going to accept any painkillers and she was definitely not going into why she didn’t want to take them. And most of all, no, she didn’t want to fucking talk about her past. 

Maybe this was her fault. She opened up one time, because she was exhausted and in pain, showed her weakness to the team once, and now they thought she was going to break. She was stronger than that, she didn’t need their help to sort through her issues. Their pity would turn to frustration and anger eventually, and when that time came, Nat would be ready for their vitriol. 

A small voice in the back of Nat’s head that sounded a lot like Clint and a little like Pepper, weirdly enough, whispered that that was all bull-shit. That the Avenger’s cared about her, trusted her. That she could be herself with them and trust them not to let her down. _That being vulnerable wasn’t the same as being weak._

The louder voice that spoke with the weight of a lifetime of pain, betrayal, and abandonment drowned out the tiny voice mercilessly. 

Nat took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly, centering herself back into the present, and took another small sip of the earthy tea. She would need all of her composure to make it through the day. She couldn’t make any mistakes, not with Steve around. Everything had to go smoothly, for the Captain’s sake. 

Nat heard the soft steps padding quietly towards her, belying the size and weight of the man who took them. Steve walked lightly, with the inherent grace a professional ballerina would envy, despite his large stature. Nat continued to sip her tea, and waited for Steve to make the first move. 

Nat eyed him as he came around the counter, heading straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. He was dressed more casually than she expected him to be. Dark colored jeans, with a red polo-muscle shirt, and a classic style bomber jacket. Nat had half-expected him to wear his Captain America suit, complete with shield. She raised a single eyebrow at him over the top of her mug of tea. 

Steve rolled his eyes, a slight blush giving away his embarrassment. “What? Did you expect me to go full America on my first day of work at SHIELD?” Steve asked with exasperation coloring his tone. 

Nat smirked, “Never go full America, and yes I kinda did actually.” 

Steve huffed good naturally, and let the comment slide. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

Nat held up her mug of tea in a _what do you think this is_ sort of manner, than took another sip of the beverage as if to reiterate her point. 

“Tea isn’t breakfast Nat. It’s a good breakfast drink, but you need something solid too.” Cap grabbed a nutrition bar from the bowl Tony kept stocked and tossed it at Nat, forcing her to abandon her tea to catch it. 

As Nat started to protest, Steve turned his big blue, all-American puppy eyes on her and she crumbled (not because she’s susceptible to Steve’s pleading, but because she didn't feel like arguing with him. Right.) Natasha sighed as if eating a breakfast bar was the biggest inconvenience of her life, but opened the brightly colored package anyway and took a small bite to appease Steve. 

Steve gave her one of his beaming smiles and grabbed a couple of bars for himself before stepping around the counter and heading towards the elevator. “We should get going, don’t want to be late.” 

Nat hopped off the bar stool, breakfast in hand, and grabbed her go-bag from the floor. “Fine. But I’m driving and we’re taking the Vette.” 

————————————

Nat sat behind the wheel of her cherished black Corvette, as Monday morning, rush-hour, NYC traffic stuttered along at a snails pace. It would take them about an hour to reach the SHIELD building from the tower with this traffic. It would admittedly be a lot faster on the subway, but with how high profile they were, it was better to avoid public transportation as much as possible. 

Nat sat comfortably in the silence as Steve squirmed restlessly in the passenger seat. She could tell he was itching to break the silence, but was to polite to do so first. After 15 minutes of unbroken silence, Natasha decided to take pity on the big oaf. Kinda. 

“Spit it out Rogers, your anxiety is driving me crazy.” Nat exclaimed suddenly, causing Captain America to jump suddenly in his seat and turn to look at Nat sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I just have a lot of questions and I’m not sure where to start and I know you’re not exactly keen on answering things, which is your right! You have a right to your privacy and I respect that, completely. But still, there are things I need to know if I’m going to be able to help you with SHIELD and I can’t do that flying blind.” Steve was breathing prettily heavily after the word vomit he just threw at her, which probably contained bits and pieces of every pre-rehearsed version of that statement he’d come up with in the last 15 minutes. 

Nat took another deep centering breath and kept her gaze firmly on the slow moving traffic. They’d probably moved about a foot in the last minute. “Ok. Ask what you want but I reserve the right to not answer your questions. But I promise I won’t lie.” 

Steve nodded eagerly and shifted his large frame to angle more towards Natasha. Which was pretty comical given the limited space. 

“What can I expect as your team leader at SHIELD? I know I’m your team leader with the Avengers, but I don’t know how SHIELD runs its operations.” 

“I’m sure Fury could answer that question for you once we get to SHIELD.” Nat stated neutrally. 

“I’m sure he could, but I want to hear it from you first. I trust you, I don’t trust anything Fury says.”

Nat glanced quickly at Steve at that, but quickly averted her gaze back to the taillights in front of her. She briefly squeezed the wheel tightly before loosening her grip. “I can’t really tell you how things will go now, but I can tell you what it was like with Clint and Phil. We operated as a black ops strike team. Clint was usually the eye’s in the sky and my backup when I needed it, Phil ran comms, fed intel, and basically made sure me and Clint didn’t do anything stupid,” Nat smiled gently thinking about Phil and his nanny habits, “while I generally handled the infiltration and execution.”

Steve nodded, but he still looked hesitant. 

“Look Steve. I’m not like other SHIELD operatives. They send me on the missions they can’t send anyone else to do. Clint and I, we didn’t get extraction plans or secondary units for assist. It was just us against whatever the world decided to throw at us. And my missions are always in the black and definitely morally questionable. Mostly assassinations, acquisitions, and honey pots.” Nat could feel her jaw clenching and her nails digging into the leather of the steering wheel and made a conscious decision to relax her body language. “I’ll understand if that’s not something you can or want to do,” Nat continued in a softer voice, trying to make sure Steve knew she wouldn’t be angry at his decision.

Steve took a moment to take in everything Nat had revealed to him, but only a moment. “I’m here to support you Nat, whatever that looks like” He said simply, no hesitation in his voice. “Every mission, until we find a way to get you out of your contract.”

“Really?” Nat hated the way her voice cracked unconsciously on the word, and cleared her throat in an attempt to save face. 

“Absolutely. I don’t abandon my friends.” Steve said kindly, a small reassuring smile on his lips. 

Nat swallowed hard before plowing on, desperately trying to move on from the authentic moment as quickly as possible. “Alright, what else do you want to know?” 

They’d made it through 2 stop lights now, Nat wished they could have just taken their respective motorcycles. 

Seeming to sense that the moment was over, Steve considered his next question carefully. “Has Fury ever done anything to you that I should know about?” 

Nat felt her heart freeze for a moment but managed to keep her outward expressions neutral. “Why do you ask?” She inquired, her voice staying perfectly even. No hint of the apprehension running through her system. 

“The way he talked about you when Tony, Pepper and I met with him. He said you needed to be _controlled,”_ Steve spit the word like it would poison him if he didn’t get it out of his mouth quick enough. “He talked about how SHIELD took measures to ensure you were _obedient_ Nat.” He sounded distressed. “If they’re hurting you, we can turn around right now and go back to the Tower. We can weather whatever the World Council throws at us. Just say the word Nat and its done.”

Time slowed as Steve spoke, damning her to make a decision she hadn’t planned on making today. She couldn’t tell Steve the truth, despite her promise, not all of it at least. It’s true. She could turn around right now, go back to the tower with Steve, tell the Avengers everything. But the fallout would be catastrophic. The World Council would publicly denounce her, leak her sins to the international news outlets. SHIELD would call for the Avengers to turn her over to the authorities, which they in turn would refuse, most likely. She would be a prisoner inside the tower, unable to leave without fear of being arrested or assassinated as soon as she stepped outside of its walls. The Avengers would lose the trust of the public. Her enemies, knowing that she was no longer protected by SHIELD, would come out of the woodworks and try kill her or worse. It would jeopardize the lives of everyone on the team and their ability to protect the people of earth without interference. 

She wouldn’t let that happen. If Tony and Steve convinced the WC to let her go, that was one thing, but to openly rebel against them? The cost would be too great. She refuses to let the Avengers suffer like that for her. 

So she does what she does best. She lies. 

Nat laughed airily at Steve’s concern, brushing him off with smile and a casual wave of her hand. Her eyes alight with amusement. “Fury’s a dick, Steve, and we definitely don’t get along, but I could take him in a fight with my hands tied behind my back and one eye closed to make it fair. He’s hard on me, I get shitty missions and a lot of unnecessary paperwork, but he doesn’t _hurt_ me. He was probably just talking about the terms of the contract, which I signed willingly, by the way. SHIELD’s by no means perfect, but it’s a hell of lot better then the Red Room.” Most of which was mostly true, in essence. 

Natasha could feel Steve’s gaze on her, looking for any signs that she was deceiving him. She gave him none. Finally, Steve nodded slowly in acknowledgment, the tension he had previously been carrying leaving his shoulders. “It’s still not right that he basically forced you to sign a contract you can’t get out of as a teenager. And that you don’t get a choice on what missions you carry out.” Steve grumbled righteously on her behalf. 

Nat sighed, “I know it’s difficult to understand Steve, but I am dangerous. The people who trained me were ruthless and there are effects of the way I grew up that I’ll never shake. SHIELD gave me a second chance, a second chance with a lot of addendum’s I’ll admit. But still, I’m getting to balance my ledger. Besides you were a soldier. How many missions did you get to _choose not to go on_ when you were serving?” She asked drily. 

“You’ve got a point, but I still don’t like.” Steve acquiesced grudgingly, his arms crossed. 

Nat genuinely chuckled at the image Steve made, like an overgrown Super-toddler. “You don’t have to like it, you just have to accept it for now.” Nat pulled into a nondescript parking garage and flashed her badge at the card reader. The floor of the garage lifted up revealing a hidden down ramp leading to an underground section of the building. 

Nat navigated the car through the garage until she found an available spot. Turning off the corvette Nat turned to Steve, stopping him from exiting the vehicle with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey Steve, do me a favor, just try to stay on Fury’s good side. It’ll make life easier for the both of us in the long run.” 


	5. Agent Romanoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you too everyone who's left comments and kudos on my previous chapters. Your support is so encouraging and makes me feel all warm inside :) Here's the next chapter, its a long one for y'all. Enjoy!!!

Steve watched in bewildered fascination as Nat transformed into _Agent Romanoff_ between one step and the next. Everything about her changed within what seemed like a second of time. The set of her shoulders, the length of her strides, the resting expression on her face that let everyone who looked at her know she was competent and lethal. It was amazing. Breathtaking, but also extremely unsettling. Steve wasn’t used to seeing Nat like this. Even on Avenger’s missions, there was always a layer of mischievousness underneath the professional facade that made her approachable. Especially when Clint was around. It was like his presence unlocked something in her personality that she didn’t show to anyone except him. 

For example, Nat and Clint’s commentary on missions was legendary. Tony once laughed so hard at one of Tasha’s comebacks to some taunt Clint made over comms that it blew his cover and he had to engage his portable Iron Man suit in order to extract himself. 

Nat was real smug about that one. 

But there was no trace of the Natasha that lounged on the couch in the Avenger’s common room, who wore Clint’s oversized hoodies and read the Russian translation of Harry Potter on Sunday’s. All the softness was covered up in an armor so thick, Steve was sure if he’d never had any other experience with Natasha, he would believe she was heartless, cold, _unfeeling._

And that was the farthest thing from the truth. If anything, and Steve would keep this opinion to himself until the day he died, Steve thinks Nat experiences emotions deeply, but struggles with processing and identifying what she's feeling. And obviously SHIELD was doing nothing to help with Nat’s emotional health, if she felt it necessary to put on all of her armor before walking into the building. 

Nat didn’t slow her gait as they passed through the security checkpoint, holding out her badge to the intimidated looking guard on duty and gesturing for Steve to follow her. Steve gave a quick nod of acknowledgement to the guard who threw up a hasty, nervous salute as he passed.

Nat pointed out points of interest as they walked, explaining were all the key locations were in the building and what was on each floor. She also threw in optimal egress routes and camera blindspots _just in case,_ which made Steve grin internally and made his chest go fuzzy with affection for the young spy. Nat didn’t show affection in normal ways, Steve had learned. Much like everything else about Nat, it was subtle. Carrying extra hearing aids for Clint in her Go-Bag during missions, replacing Tony’s coffee with decaf without him knowing so he’ll finally sleep, steering people away from Bruce in social gatherings when she see’s him starting to get overwhelmed. 

Sharing potentially life-saving information and trade secrets to a teammate on their first day of work. 

Proof that the Nat he knew was just hiding herself away underneath one of her many masks. Now all Steve had to do was figure out what she was hiding from. 

They climbed into a nondescript elevator and Nat pressed the button for one of the higher levels. Thankfully they had the elevator to themselves as they began their slow ascent to the 30th floor. Steve looked over to Nat and saw a quick crack in her armor, so brief he could have been imagining things. She was nervous. Maybe even scared. 

Steve nudged her shoulder gently with his elbow, grabbing her attention. “Hey, everything alright?” 

Nat gave him a quick painted smile and nodded in reassurance. “Yeah, I’m good Rogers, just dreading all the paperwork that’s going to be sitting on my desk after a week off.” 

Steve didn’t believe her for a second, but he let it go, not wanting to push her to talk if she didn’t want to. Especially while inside SHIELD. 

The elevator finally grumbled to a halt with the kind of unsteady lurching characteristic of government facilities, and the two Avengers stepped out into a bustling office floor. Agents milled around, sitting at desks, drinking coffee, and heading to briefing rooms. The room got noticeably quieter for a moment, before the chatter picked up louder than before, the hushed conversations following them as they made there way deeper into the building. 

“Looks like you’re going to be a celebrity around here Cap,” Nat quipped at Steve with some of her usual sass. 

Steve rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and groaned louder than he probably should have in an attempt to get Nat to react. 

Natasha snorted with amusement and reached up to pat Steve’s shoulder in a show of mock sympathy. “I’m sure they’ll stop drooling over your star-spangled physique soon.” 

Steve shoved Nat playfully, mindful of her still healing injuries and his above average strength. Nat went to shove him back, but stopped, seeming to remember where she was mid-gesture. The underlying tension returned to her body that their quick banter had managed to ease. “C’mon, I’d like to get to the conference room before the Director.” 

Steve nodded and followed behind Natasha as she walked quickly ahead, leading him through the maze of cubicles to a conference room located in the back corner of the room. 

——————————————

Nat was getting really aggravated with constantly feeling like her heart was going to explode through her chest. She never used to feel this apprehensive. Even back in the Red Room when the stakes were life or death daily, she always felt calm, razor-sharp focus. Now it was taking everything inside her to keep her hands from shaking as she reached out to grab the door handle to the conference room. 

This was getting ridiculous. She’s the Black Widow, the Red Terror, the fucking most deadly woman on the planet and she was anxious about a meeting with her boss and Steve. She was going soft. Getting so used to false feelings of safety and security, that when it was time to step back into reality, it made her heart pound, fueling her veins with fear. 

They were the first ones to arrive, thank Thor (Nat smirked covertly at her new favorite expression, courtesy of Clint the other day), which gave them time to settle before Fury arrived. Nat picked a chair with a good eye line for the door, but left space between her and the chair at the head of the table. She plopped her bag by her feet and pulled out her SHIELD lap top, pulling up her mission report and the data she retrieved from the traffickers. 

She watched as Steve walked around the small room, looking at everything seemingly at a loss for what to do, before coming around to her side of the table and sitting in the chair between her and the end spot. 

They only had to wait about five minutes before Fury and Maria came barging into the room without knocking. Nat was already on her feet, having heard their approach as they headed towards the door. Steve was a little slower, but rose to greet the highest ranked commanders in SHIELD. Maria immediately put Natasha at-ease and walked around the table to give Steve a friendly handshake and greeting. 

Fury moved directly to the head of the table and sat, his steely gaze taking in the occupants of the room. Maria and Steve were completely unfazed by Fury’s apparent impatience to get this meeting started and finished catching up, before Maria took her place at Fury’s right hand on the other side of the table. 

“I think I speak for everyone at SHIELD, but it’s a pleasure to have you with us Captain, and we look forward to your partnership with us.” Maria started diplomatically, a rare sincere smile gracing her usually stoic features. 

“I look forward to learning more about SHIELD and getting the opportunity to work with Nat more regularly.” Steve replied equally as diplomatic, his answer impressively skirting the elephant in the room and simultaneously confirming where his loyalties lied. 

Maria eyes turned to Natasha, something unidentifiable in her gaze (pity? sympathy? guilt??) before turning back to address Steve. “Well, whatever your reasons are, I’m just happy you’re here. Things have been a little _unstable_ since the Chitari invasion, and we could use another super-powered operative to help get things back to manageable levels.” 

“Not to mention the morale boost of having Captain America mingling amongst the masses.” Natasha stated dryly. 

Maria shared a knowing smirk with Nat, “We’ll call that an added bonus.” 

Fury cleared his throat, clearly over the pleasantries and the banter. 

Maria cast an apologetic look in Fury’s direction before unlocking her SHIELD tablet and facing the two Avengers with a more serious expression. “Right. We’re going to start with your debrief Agent Romanoff, than we’ll transition into going over what Captain Roger’s roll will be in SHIELD.” 

“Now, Romanoff.” Fury stated gruffly. It wasn’t a request. 

“Our targets were Casimir Novakovic and Kalin Slovak, human traffickers that operate predominantly in the eastern European theatre.” Natasha flicked her screen so the pictures of two men appeared on the screens throughout the room. “Their organization was notoriously well-connected and all previous efforts made by international law enforcement to get close to them were unsuccessful. Slovak was notoriously paranoid and reclusive, while Novakovic had a reputation of being sadistic and trigger happy.” 

“Based on the intel SHIELD was able to provide and my own recon I determined the club Novakovic frequented most often and the type of woman he preferred to victimize. He singled me out my 3rd night at the _Zamŭkŭt._ I played the roll and allowed him to drug my drink and take me back to his compound.” Natasha ignored the pained look Steve cast her way. 

“Novakovic set up a meeting with Slovak to discuss the expansion of their empire into the Americas. Their systems containing their expansion plan were encrypted and required two encryption keys to access, which they both kept in thumb-drives on their person at all times.” 

“Slovak arrived at the compound a week later. After confirming he had his USB on him, I eliminated both Slovak and Novakovic, staged it too look like a business meeting gone wrong, downloaded the computers hard drive and acquired both USB devices. Everything that SHIELD needs to dismantle the entire syndicate should be found in those files”. Yeah she skipped over a lot of the dirty, in-between details. But if they wanted to know that part they’d have to ask her directly. 

Nat slid three USB drives across the table to Hill who swiped them up and immediately transferred them to one of the pockets of her tactical suit, ignoring the dried blood staining the metal. 

“Excellent work, Agent Romanoff. This intel will be put to good use. Strike Teams Alpha and Bravo are going to kept busy for a while with all of this information.” Hill praised. 

“Your work was to standard,” Fury allowed filling Nat with a sense of hope, “However,” which subsequently died, “you failed to make contact with your handler post mission and kept valuable intelligence on your person without turning it in.” Fury sneered. 

“That’s not fair, Director. Natasha could barely walk let, alone _report in_ after that mission. You saw her the day after, she was exhausted and injured and frankly, considering you knew what kind of mission this was and what it entailed, your _mission parameters_ should have made accommodations for the physical and mental state your operative would be in after experiencing almost 2 weeks with a known sadist. That’s on SHIELD, not Natasha.” Steve held Fury’s gaze, refusing to back down or be cowed. Ready to argue, until the Director admitted he was wrong. 

Natasha swallowed and decided to take a risk. “And respectfully, Sir, I uploaded the entire hard drive, with the encryption codes, to the secure SHIELD server along with my mission report the next day, like you requested.” 

Nat saw Fury clench his jaw in frustration before sighing and shifting his head in acknowledgement, the closest Natasha had ever been to seeing Fury admit he was wrong about something. 

Maria looked guilty, it was definitely guilt this time, Nat was sure. “You’re right, Captain Rogers. I don’t know how that could’ve gotten overlooked during the op prep. I’ll have words with Sitwell and make sure this situation doesn’t repeat itself. That’s on us, Agent Romanoff, and I’m glad you’re recovering well. I know this was an extremely difficult operation to undergo, but we’ll be able to help a lot of people with what you brought back.”

Steve nodded in satisfaction, while Nat just looked at Hill in confusion. She hadn’t worked with Maria a lot. Coulson had liked her, and she respected what little she had seen of the woman, but usually it was Fury and Coulson, or on really shitty days, Fury and Sitwell doing her debrief. And it never went like this. Those debriefs felt like a cross-interrogations. Fury making her justify every decision she made in the field, picking her apart until she was left questioning her own motives. 

But Maria just accepted what she said and even apologized. That was two sincere apologies she’d received in the past week and, honestly, it was starting to creep her out. Maybe she was still drugged. Maybe this was just some weird trip from some high powered hallucinogenic (wouldn’t be the first time she couldn’t trust her reality). 

Fury was definitely going easy on her though, and Nat didn’t know if she should feel nervous or relieved by this turn of events. She was landing somewhere in the middle. Nerlieved? Renervous? She wasn’t sure. Clint was better at coming up with the stupid made up words that somehow always accurately represented how mixed up she was feeling. 

“Let’s move on to the topic of your roll at SHIELD, Captain Rogers.” Fury firmly ended the conversation. Natasha was undeniably nerlieved to have the focus turned away from her and onto Steve. 

“These are my terms,” Steve started his rehearsed statement that Pepper had been coaching with him all week. “I only work with Natasha. I’ll be her primary handler and partner, I think I’m competent enough to fill both roles. Where Nat goes, I go. No exceptions. If she’s not on the mission, than neither am I, and vice versa. We’re a packaged deal now.” 

Fury and Hill had some sort of unspoken conversation, before both agreed. “It’s not ideal, but we’ll take whatever you’re willing to give us Captain Rogers. Welcome to the team.” Maria stated enthusiastically. 

Fury stood “We’re thrilled to have you Rogers. Hill will escort you to admin to get you outfitted with your SHIELD credentials and have get you processed into the system.” As Maria and Steve began to rise and talk about all the paperwork Steve would have to fill out, Fury turned to Natasha. “Romanoff, Counsellor Pierce has requested you to be on his security detail for the United Nations Gala this Friday. Report to his office for the mission brief.” 

Ah there it was. The other shoe coming to stomp her back into the ground. Fury turned to face her, silently daring her to resist his order. Natasha flicked her eyes away from Fury’s gaze and mumbled an “Understood, Sir” while gathering her things. 

“Wait, Nat’s not coming with us?” Steve asked. 

Steve turned to face her, concern and protectiveness in every line of his body. Behind him, Natasha could see Fury and the threat in his gaze. 

“Its fine Steve. It’s going to take a couple of hours to do everything you need to do. Text me when your done and we’ll go get lunch in the cafeteria or something.” Nat tried to soothe his concerns. 

“If Nat’s going to be on this UN detail than I will be to. I should be apart of this briefing”. Steve insisted, turning to face Fury and Hill. 

“Steve, it’s ok. It’s just a security detail. We can do those in our sleep. I’ll go to the brief, you get all your boring in-processing stuff done and than we’ll get out of here for the day. If you come with me, we’re going to be stuck here all day.” Nat pleaded, throwing a hint of impatience in her voice to try to convince Steve that this was her idea. She was fine with it. Nothing was wrong. 

Steve was reluctant to let her go off by herself, but he was caving. The final push coming after she raised her eyebrow at him in question. “Ok, I’ll text you when I’m done and we’ll meet up in the lobby.”

“Deal.” And with that Nat made her way out of the conference room, the other three trailing behind her towards the elevators. The small group got on the elevator together, Maria and Steve making small talk as they ascended two floors to the admin section of the building. Steve exited the elevator with Maria, throwing one last look over his shoulder towards her as the doors closed, leaving her alone with Fury. 

Natasha knew what was going to happen, but she still flinched as Fury grabbed her arm in an iron grip and threw her into the wall. Natasha hit hard, but didn’t resist, even as he twisted her arm behind her, securing her against the wall, the side of her face turned towards the elevator doors as they rose through SHIELD. 

“Do you think we don’t know what you’re doing, Romanoff.” Fury sneered into her ear. “You think because you manipulated Captain America into being your guard dog that you can escape us?” 

“I’m not trying anything. I swear. Steve made the decision on his own. I had nothing to do with…”

“BULL SHIT!” Fury cut her off, snarling in her ear as he twisted her arm harder and pushed her more firmly into the wall. “All you do is lie. You lie so often and so well, you’re even starting to believe them yourself” he whispered, fake sympathy making his tone sickly sweet. Fury released her suddenly as the elevator started to slow towards the top floor. “Don’t worry. SHIELD will help you remember the truth of what you are.” 

The doors of the elevator opened to the executive suites. Clint called it the boss floor. Fury shoved Natasha out of the elevator when she didn’t move quickly enough for his liking. “Pierce is waiting for you Agent. Don’t keep him waiting,” and with that, Fury walked off as if he hadn’t just been pinning her to the elevator wall two seconds ago. 

Nat felt her hands begin to shake in earnest as she walked to Pierce’s office, the path so familiar that she took the steps automatically. Mechanics and muscle memory driving her towards the door and she had no power to stop it. It was always worse if she resisted. And she had promised Steve she’d meet him for lunch. She’d already broken one promise to him today, she wouldn’t break another. 

Nat took one moment to inhale deeply before stepping into the brightly lit office. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave the room an open feeling, meant to put anyone who entered at ease with the light and space. It just made Natasha feel small. 

Nat closed the door behind her and looked to see Pierce standing in front of one of the windows, a whiskey tumblr filled with water in his hand, staring out at the skyline of New York. “Come in Natasha, you know I hate it when people loiter by the door.” Pierce said, his tone objectively friendly. False charm oozing off him in waves. 

Nat stepped to the center of the room, tense, dread filling every fiber of her being. It never got any easier. No matter how many times she went through this, it was always just as bad as the last time. The shaking was getting worse. He knew how much the anticipation fed her terror. And he reveled in it. 

Pierce took a sip of his water before turning around and placing the glass on his desk. “Fury tells me you’ve been recruiting the Avenger’s to your cause.” Pierce states casually. “That is very unsettling news, Natasha. How much have you told them?” He asks, his voice gentle, soothing. Wrong. 

“I haven’t told them anything, Sir. I swear.” Natasha replied honestly, willing Pierce to just this once believe her. “Nothing that isn’t already common knowledge.” 

Pierce came around the desk to stand right in front her. His hand moves to caress her cheek and she feels her body flinch away automatically. He ignores her reaction and slides his hand down her face until he’s holding the back of her neck, his thumb making random patterns on her cheek. “I want to believe you Natasha, truly I do.” He says, his voice lulling her into a false calm. “But you know I can’t, not without making sure.” 

Pierce leans in, his mouth hovering beside her ear and whispers on an exhale of breath, “Krasnyy”. 

Natasha feels her world start to go black. 

“Pauk”. 

Pain, shooting through her skull. She thinks she hears herself begging. Begging him to stop. Promising to be good. To be better. It never stops. 

“Tanets” 

She can feel herself disconnecting from the world. Becoming a spectator in her own body. She’s still herself just, muted. Malleable. The clay before the stone. 

“Poslushaniye” 

She is a weapon. A tool. She doesn’t know why she ever pretends to be otherwise. 

“Oruzhiye” She screams internally. But nothing comes out. She is no longer in control. All she can do is watch. Endure. 

“Aktiv”

……

“Are you ready comply, Natalia?” 

“I am ready to comply.”


	6. On My Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. As you all know, real life has been extremely crazy (understatement) recently. I haven't abandoned this fic, but real life responsibilities took precedent. I do want you to know that I read all of your amazing comments and they bring me so much happiness, so I really wanted to thank you all for your kind words and encouragement. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, its more of a segue than anything else, but I liked how it turned out (granted I'm writing this at 11:15 at night after a work day so my judgement might be off). I will continue with this story, but fair warning, updates are going to be sporadic for a while. So please enjoy, I hope everyone's staying safe, and that my fic offers some of you a little break from reality for awhile. :)

Cold. Like the concrete floor of a cell. Snow swirling, swirling, swirling…..like ballerinas twirling in controlled bursts of movement. Cold that burns, ice sweeping through her joints and sinew feeling its icy tendrils as it numbs her mind enough to muddle her thoughts, but never enough to escape the pain, pain, pain. Her oldest friend and only constant companion through life. Everyone and everything eventually leaves, burns away in the fire she brings, leaving only ashes in the wind that swirl, swirl, swirl…. like snow, corrupted by her touch.

She doesn’t know how long her mind drifted in and out of the hell-scape created by her subconscious while her consciousness was puppeteered by Pierce. Forcing truths and secrets from her mouth with every question asked, with no choice but to answer. In her moments of lucidity, she could hear her own voice and Pierce, but it was like the sounds were being filtered through tempered glass, distant and distorted beyond comprehension. 

Then. All at once—the pain shifted from the cold, icy, numbness, to blinding heat. Too much at once, she could feel her head rushing with thoughts, a complete sensory overload as every sensation that had been subdued was suddenly brought back into her awareness. 

Natasha inhaled deeply, desperately trying to suck down oxygen into her lungs as if she had been drowning only a few moments ago. Every inhalation brought back more clarity to her surroundings as she slowly grounded herself to the present and the physical reality of her situation. 

Nat dug her fingertips into the carpet beneath her and only then realized she was on her knees. 

She slowly opened her eyes and saw her reflection staring back at her from the polished gleam of Alexander Pierce’s dress shoes, inches away from her kneeling body. Nat knew better than to look up immediately. There was a time when she would have met Pierce’s gaze. Stared back at him in defiance, with rage and violence. Fight desperately against their control like she once did with her previous, harsher masters, not so long ago. 

But today was different. She had a reason to obey. She had people she cared about. She was making a difference, helping people. She was making progress in wiping out the red in her ledger. 

And Steve was waiting, downstairs, to take her home.  
——————————  
Steve sat on a lone bench, waiting on Natasha in the SHIELD lobby for about an hour when he finally got a text from her that she was on her way down to meet him. The lunch hour had come and gone, taking most of the agents with it as they returned to their offices. In-processing with SHIELD had taken about two hours, but it hadn’t been to terribly difficult. It helped having the deputy director with him to grease the wheels of bureaucracy.

Steve liked Maria Hill. She was smart, no-nonsense, but she also seemed to genuinely care about the agents under her care. Steve noticed she knew the names of every entry-level agent they interacted with today. Steve also noticed how the agents interacted with the Deputy-Director. If Steve had learned anything in the Army, it was that you could tell a lot about a commander based on how the troops interacted with them. Almost unanimously across the board, Steve observed genuine respect and admiration for the woman. Even Natasha’s brief interaction with Maria had been enlightening about the woman’s character. 

She was definitely a breath of fresh air after having to deal with Fury. Possibly even a powerful ally in SHIELD that could help him with Nat’s case. Maybe there was hope for the future of SHIELD yet. 

Steve glanced down at the text Nat had sent and checked the time on his watch again before looking around the lobby. It had only been 2 minutes since she had texted him “OMW” but something felt off and it was making him anxious. A security detail briefing, even one for someone as high profile as Alexander Pierce, should have only taken a maximum of an hour and a half. Especially when briefing a team of elite professional soldiers and spies. Steve had half expected to return to the lobby to find Natasha lounging gracefully on one of the hard benches, rolling her eyes and snarking about how she was practically as old as him from waiting so long. 

But Nat was nowhere to be found when he finally said goodbye to Maria and headed to their predetermined meeting space. He had even texted her to see how the briefing was going, but she hadn’t replied. 

Clint was going to kill him when they got back to the tower. The night before, the archer had made him promise he wouldn’t leave Nat’s side, and he had broken it.  
Steve contemplated the quick conversation he had with the former SHIELD agent the night before. Clint had started by refusing to get into detail about Nat’s past, saying it wasn’t his place to divulge her secrets. Of course Steve would never ask Clint to betray Natasha’s trust. But he did talk a little bit about their time as partners and some of what he divulged was…… troubling, to say the least. Clint insisted he didn’t know any details. He and Coulson had tried to find concrete proof to support their theories, but had never been able to find anything solid. And Natasha refused to talk about it. 

Clint told him about FUBAR missions. How Natasha would disappear afterwards for a day or two to decompress and always came back sporting bruises that looked like they were in an earlier stage of healing than all the others covering her skin like a patchwork quilt of violence.  
He told him about how Fury was always looking for an excuse to berate her. How she always let him verbally tear her down, never once defending or making excuses for herself. How she asked him and Coulson to stop intervening on her behalf during debriefs, saying she deserved it, despite his and Coulson’s attempts to convince her otherwise. 

And finally he told him about Nat’s “bad days”. How sometimes Nat would come back to their shared SHIELD-issued room and just collapse from exhaustion. How she would retreat into herself for hours, sometimes days, with a vacant look in her eyes, disconnected from the world.  
Steve had demanded to know why Clint hadn’t done anything more to help Nat until now, but Clint just gave him a dejected smile, an emotion in his eyes to complex to describe. And it was simple really. He couldn’t help Nat until she was ready to accept it. She was the best spy in the world. Nothing he said or did would convince her to talk to him before she was ready. So he did what he could. Supported Nat when she let him, patched her up when she didn’t, and worked behind the scenes to try to find out what was happening to his best friend. 

Clint had no proof. No concrete facts, that Nat was being purposefully hurt by SHIELD, or at least, people within SHIELD. But his instincts, honed by years of fighting and survival, told him otherwise. Clint had given him a list of names of people to watch out for, people not to trust with Nat’s safety. Fury was at the top of the list, but it was also filled with names he hadn’t heard before like Rumlow, Rollins, and Sitwell. 

Steve was ready to pull the plug then and there on taking Natasha back to SHIELD, insisting the Avenger’s could handle the fallout, but Clint shut down that idea. Clint knew Nat, better than anyone else in the world, and if Steve didn’t go with her to SHIELD, she would just go back by herself. 

Steve was pulled out of his brooding by the ding of an elevator across the room and lifted his eyes to see Natasha departing and walking into the lobby. Relief flooded through his system when he saw her walking towards him. Relief was quickly replaced with concern as Nat got closer and he was able to scrutinize her more closely. She looked, defeated. Shoulders slumped inwards, eyes cast down to the floor as she walked like she was trying to avoid his gaze. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted as she got closer, pitching his voice to sound upbeat. “Ready to go?” 

Nat startled slightly at his voice, before finally lifting her head and looking at him. There was something off in her gaze. Like she wasn’t fully present. 

Steve got closer turning them so his body blocked her from view from the majority of the room, giving them the illusion of privacy. He made sure not to touch her though, knowing that even on a good day, Nat wasn’t always comfortable with touch she didn’t initiate. 

“Nat? Are you ok? Did something happen?” Steve kept his voice low, trying to keep the worry he felt from leaking into his tone. 

Nat seemed to forcibly shake herself out of her daze, blinking slowly at him and giving him a weak smile that came out as more of a grimace. “I’m fine Steve, today just took more out of me than I thought it would.” 

“What do you mean?” Steve was having a hard time keeping his concern in check. He scanned Natasha looking for the source of what was making him feel like something was wrong. 

Nat shook her head, “Nothing. I just, I haven’t really been moving all that much since I got back from the last mission. I guess I’m not as fully recovered as I thought. This is the most I’ve been on my feet since last week. I’m just tired.” Nat met his eyes, and Steve saw clearly the exhaustion in her green eyes. 

Nat moved around Steve and started to walk off, tossing her keys over her shoulder towards Steve who caught them on instinct, hurrying to catch up.


	7. The Space Between Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Get some more Clint & Nat interaction this chapter, small steps forward, and more Nat & Team interactions coming soon.

It was Clint’s turn to cook team dinner, which meant he had no intention of cooking and the pizza delivery guy was about 20 minutes out with the Avengers’ usual order. Clint could cook, when the situational need called for it, like that one time he and Tasha got stranded in the Appalachian Mountains for a month while trying to evade a neo-nazi militia. Nat was an excellent hunter/gatherer, but atrocious at anything resembling a competent cook, so it was always Clint’s job to prepare their makeshift meals well enough that they didn’t die of food poisoning. Or dysentery. Or any other food related illness. 

Clint could definitely cook, Thor-dammit. But why would he when there was about a dozen different apps on his Stark phone that would order _any kind of food he wanted_ and it would magically and majestically appear before him within the hour? Truly, modern society’s greatest achievement since the invention of the coffee maker. Clint couldn’t wait to tell Nat this little revelation, just so he could watch the amusement and faux exasperation wash across her features as she rolled her eyes and called him an idiot. It was the simple things in life. 

Besides, even if things went 100% smoothly at SHIELD today, Nat was still going to come home tense. Clint hoped a little banter, the cheesy goodness of Thor’s most blessed food, and a little vodka spiked hot chocolate would pick the young spy’s mood back up and allow her to relax for the rest of the night with the team. 

A tried and true method of decompression developed over years and years of partnership. Clint remembers the first time Tash tried hot chocolate and pizza. She was 16 years old, too skinny, a healing arrow wound to the shoulder. Simultaneously so curious and bewildered by the world around her and extremely wary and suspicious of every new discovery at the same time. It was all about trust building back in the early days, and every step was hard earned with blood, sweat, more blood, and a few precious tears. 

Clint struggled with their dynamic at the beginning. He was 6 years older than her, and considered by no one at the time to be a responsible adult. But on the other hand, he was put in charge of a 16 year old girl. A severally abused, broken, and _deadly_ 16 year old girl who had no concept of free-will and had never experienced what childhood was supposed to be like. Granted, it wasn’t like his childhood was all sunshine and rainbows either (far from it) but he at least had moments. Moments of happiness and innocence, memories he treasured and kept close to his heart. Memories that reminded him about what it meant to be human when he was knee deep in mud and blood 5,000 miles from his shitty apartment that he lovingly called home. 

But she had none of that. And she never would. Not with the contract that was keeping her alive and out of the black cells in the basement of SHIELD (that he wasn’t supposed to know about). She was just a kid, but she wasn’t. And she definitely did not want to be treated like a child. 

Clint just wanted to protect her and show her that the world was more than pain and death and following someones orders.And so that’s what he did. Slowly. Day by day, little by little. It started with hot chocolate (that was deemed satisfactory, _but would be perfect with a little Russian vodka, Barton._ _I can literally drink you under the table_ ). Which turned into modern era Disney movie marathons (early Disney was a definite No-Go, they discovered the hard way). Which turned into traveling places just for fun, and not for the mission (Their pictures from Niagara Falls were sitting in the place of honor on both of their desks at work). And most importantly, Nat started to learn for herself what she liked and didn’t like. What her interests were, her personality that she didn’t have to stifle anymore (at least around him and later Coulson). They made a weird little spy family and it wasn’t perfect, but it was good.

Clint was so, so, proud of Nat. Everyday she overcame the odds, defied expectations, despite SHIELD, and Clint would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little smug about it. Clint couldn’t wait to see how far Nat would come once she was finally, truly free. With the Avenger’s around her forming the most stable familial environment either one of them has ever had. 

Clint was drawn out of his daydreaming with the sound of the elevator dinging and the mechanical swish of the doors splitting open to reveal Steve and Nat. Clint zeroed in on Steve’s concerned expression, the Vette keys dangling in his hand, and Tasha’s zoned-out eyes and concluded that something had definitely gone wrong. That conclusion was confirmed a few seconds later as the doors closed once again, with Nat still in the elevator, the screen above indicating she was heading upstairs to her floor. 

“What in the literal fuck Steve!” 

——————————

Nat doesn’t remember the drive home. She has flashes of Steve trying to engage in small talk with her, and she’s pretty sure she made the appropriate noises at the appropriate intervals, but she couldn’t have told you what they talked about under the threat of torture or death. 

Her mind was always…muddled, after they used her trigger words on her. It was usually only Pierce, who utilized the triggers. Fury didn’t trust them. Didn’t trust the monster that was awoken after the words were said, afraid of losing control of the thing that held no allegiances, not even to itself. Especially after the Red Room Op, _the dozen slaughtered SHIELD soldiers, tiny bodies lying motionless in their beds, blue eyes begging for mercy……._

Nat shook her head swiftly from side to side in an effort to physically shake away the spiraling thoughts. That was another side effect of the trigger words. The past and present started blending together almost seamlessly for a while. It was too easy to slip back wholly into memories that were best kept buried. 

Nat honestly doesn’t even remember getting back to her room, but she thanks Thor and all his family (except Loki, fuck that guy), that she did as she collapses onto the mattress face first. Nat manages to kick off her boots as she wiggles forward onto the bed and lays down on her side, curled up facing the door. 

After what feels like an eternity, but is probably only an hour at most, Nat hear’s JARVIS’ voice emanating softly around her. Nat will (probably) never tell Tony this, his ego is big enough as it is, but JARVIS’ ability to assess human behavior and adapt his protocols accordingly was beyond genius. There are times when she thinks JARVIS has a better understanding of human behavior than she does. 

“Ms. Romanoff,” the AI spoke gently ( _gently!),_ “Mr. Barton is requesting permission to access your floor. Would that be acceptable?” 

Nat forced her head to nod, not having the energy to speak at the moment. JARVIS seeing everything, understood the gesture. 

It was quiet for a few moments, when JARVIS came back. Not like he ever actually leaves, but she had made her peace with that. She was used to being monitored constantly. At least JARVIS was unfailingly polite…and also not human. So that was nice. And Tony assured her relentlessly that JARVIS can’t record in private areas, just passively observe in case he needs to assist. He even let her look through JARVIS’ code to prove it (with supervision of course, JARVIS is his baby). And Nat was pleasantly surprised that he was telling her the truth. 

“Mr. Barton is on his way up and should be arriving in approximately 10 seconds, Ms. Romanoff,” JARVIS’ soothing British accent drifted around her again for the second time, grounding her more firmly into reality, for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to assist you further, Ms. Romanoff?” 

Nat shook her head in response. 

Exactly 10 seconds later, as predicated, Clint was slipping into her bedroom, and gently re-closing the door behind him. Clint took a moment to assess Nat’s condition, before propelling himself into motion again. 

His shoes were slipped off haphazardly at the foot of the bed next to Natasha’s, before he flopped down on his back, his head hitting the pillow hard enough to bounce before settling. Clint rolled over onto his side so he was facing Nat, his body language mirroring hers. 

Clint didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He’d seen her disappear into the abyss of her mind before. It was practically routine at this point. Telegraphing every movement, even though he knew she knew what he was going to do, Clint slowly reached his hand out to her, palm up, stopping his movement once he reached the direct center of the space between them. 

He didn’t say a word, didn’t gesture or pressure her to move. Clint waited. With the practice and discipline of a seasoned sniper. Not moving a single muscle. 

Nat continued to float in and out of reality, but the eyes in front of her stayed the same, constant throughout. They meant safety, always. Friend. Family. Brother. _Clint._

Eventually, Nat found herself blinking slowly, sliding her hand across the comforter to meet his. Her fingertips rested lightly atop his; meeting in the space between them. 

“Steve said you had a long day,” Clint stated. A fact, not a question. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed anyway, her voice coming out more hoarse than she would have liked. 

“Want to tell me about it?” Such a simple question. There was always a choice with Clint, and safety in the choice. Nat knew he would always respect her wishes, no matter what they were. He was the only one she’d ever trusted implicitly to respect her decisions, her boundaries. ( _Though there were 4 others currently in the running to be included, a voice whispered to her traitorously._ ) 

“The debrief went well.” She said simply. 

Clint didn’t respond, letting her take the time to collect her thoughts and energy; tethering her to the moment by the light touch. 

“Steve stood up for me, against Fury. He wouldn't back down until Fury admitted he was wrong. And Maria apologized to me. It was…” Nat cast around for an English word that accurately described her emotions in the moment. 

“A lot,” she finally settled on after a moment of contemplation. 

Clint nodded in understanding. He hardly ever needed her to explain what she meant. Years of friendship, partnership, cohabitation, and just general togetherness meant she could read Clint as easily as she could read her native language, and vice versa. They’d had whole conversations without saying a single word to the other. 

“I talked back to Fury,” whispered like a confession, so softly Clint almost missed it. 

Nat felt a shiver wrack through her body, a subconscious reaction to her words. 

Clint pushed down lightly with his fingers, adding a little weight to the touch to help steady her. 

“There’s a difference between sticking up for yourself and talking back, Tash,” Clint said softly, but firmly. Nat met Clint’s gaze, and saw the steely conviction in his eyes. Clint could see Nat struggling to absorb that statement. Clint had tried to talk about this concept before with Natasha, but she’d never actually been in a situation where she’d spoken up for herself to an authority figure. They were treading on new ground for the first time in a long time. Clint felt the pressure of not fucking up this moment for Tash, but was careful to not let his nerves show in his facial expressions or body language. 

They laid in silence for a few more moments, Clint letting Nat set the pace. “How do I know when it’s the right time to… to speak up?” Clint felt his heart break for the thousandth time and contemplated getting Thor to get one of his Asgardian buddies to resurrect Nat’s old handlers just so he could kill them again. He hadn’t taken his time the first time. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

Clint shook off his anger, storing it in the back of his mind to deal with later, and thought seriously about the best way to answer Nat’s question. She needed a legitimate answer. He knew that whatever he said, Nat would take it to heart for the foreseeable future, using it as a litmus test for exercising the human rights she was finally discovering that she had. 

“Try thinking about the situation as if it were happening to someone else, until you get the hang of recognizing those moments. If you don’t think something should be happening to another person, than it’s not right for it to happen to you either.” 

Nat closed her eyes and took a deep breath, contemplating what he said, turning it over in her mind and looking at it from every angle. Clint knew Nat was, by nature, an extremely protective person. He once saw her make a frat boy cry at a dive bar when she saw him harassing a girl waiting for her drink. So yeah, Natasha had no problem standing up to injustices; as long as they weren’t happening to her. 

Finally Nat opened her eyes, the green looking a little less clouded than they had just moments ago. “I’ll try,” she said simply. Clint gave her a small smile in return. It was all about small steps in the right direction, but sometimes you have to take a leap and see what happens. Which is what Clint did next. 

“Did anything else happen today you want to talk about?” Clint asked. 

Clint saw a flash of something in Nat’s eyes, but it came and went too quickly for him to identify what it was. The silence stretched so long, that he was sure Nat wasn’t going to answer him at all. 

“I don’t think so,” she settled on eventually. Not a yes…but certainly not a no either, Clint noted. 

“If there was, you could tell me, or any of the guys. We won’t get mad, I promise, either way.” 

Nat shifted her eyes to where there fingers rested against each other. “Ok”

Clint could feel Nat starting to shut down again, exhaustion, both mental and physical in every line of her body. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked. 

Nat apparently still had the energy to roll her eyes, “I had one of Tony’s breakfast bars this morning with my tea.” 

“You can’t just eat one meal a day Tasha. There’s still pizza downstairs. Steve set aside a box of your favorite for you. The guys were putting on a movie in the common area, it’s Bruce’s turn to pick so its probably going to be some documentary. Come down and eat at least one slice,” Clint begged, pouting and making his eyes go big and goofy for dramatic effect. “Or I can bring it up here to you?” He added on, increasing the power of his pout to maximum levels. 

Nat thought about it and was surprised to find she didn’t feel like being alone at the moment. Eating held little appeal to her right now, but lying curled up in a pile of limbs with the Avengers in the common area, TV on in the background, and the lights turned low, just being together in the same space, sounded like the closest thing to heaven she'd ever been able to find. 


	8. Completely Reformed Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back with chapter 8. I hope everyone enjoys and shout out to everyone who's commented and left kudos on the this fic so far! I love hearing your thoughts and theories as we go! :)

As was fairly common for Natasha—especially on days when she had to see Pierce— sleep continued to elude her. Nat had hoped that the peace she found while relaxing with the Avenger’s would carry over into sleep, but as Nat had learned countless times, hope was often more trouble than it was worth. Nat didn’t consider herself an insomniac. She got the exact amount of sleep her body needed to function. 

Usually. 

Most of the time. 

More or less. 

But that’s what coffee was for. And caffeinated tea. 

The idea of falling asleep wasn’t something that brought her relief either. Sleeping was stressful. Sleep was when you were at your most vulnerable, where even an untrained idiot could get lucky enough to get the drop on you. 

Sleep also brought with it a lifetime's worth of nightmares. And Nat’s nightmares were vivid. Every detail crystal clear and sharper than the memories they were based on. Nat could count on one hand the nights where she slept peacefully through the night, and usually it was always the nights that she was so physically and mentally exhausted that her body and mind just shut down completely. 

Nat tried going through the techniques that Bruce had taught her. Controlling her breathing, counting backwards from 100 in English, then Italian, then Arabic, then Mandarin, before giving up about halfway through German. 

With a sigh of the long suffering, Nat threw back the covers of her bed in frustration. She had tried to relax Bruce’s way, now it was time to try her way. Clint had removed the stash of vodka she kept in her room, the bastard had an uncanny ability of finding even the most well hidden things ( _I’m a certified Hufflepuff Tasha! We’re exceptionally good finders)._ Nat smiled at the memory. She would never let Clint know that his blathering about them being the ultimate Slytherin/Hufflepuff duo convinced her to read the whole series just so she could figure out what the fuck he was going on about. Besides, while the Black Widow was definitely a Slytherin, she likes to think her actually personality leans more towards Ravenclaw. Not that it matters. 

Nat brings herself out of her musings long enough to direct Jarvis to take her to the common floor, as she leans heavily against the sides of the elevator. She wishes she could just sleep like a normal person. But her mind just won’t quiet long enough to allow the rest to settle, constantly flipping back and forth from pointless ramblings to anxiety inducing scenarios. 

The doors glide open and Nat moved silently across the floor in her socked feet, the fabric of her favorite comfort sweats and t-shirt absorbing the sounds of her movement without her having to put her usual effort into controlling her body. 

The other occupant in the common area was not nearly as concerned with masking the sounds of their movement. But to be fair, it was more habit than necessity at this point for Natasha. 

Nat felt a small smirk form on her lips as she stalked her prey, moving with the grace of a practiced predator through the shadows towards the kitchen as the figure continued to rummage through the refrigerator. Nat positioned herself on the other side of the opened fridge door and leaned casually against the counter. 

“Hey, Tony,” Nat’s smirk grew into a full shit eating grin before she quickly reset her features as she heard Tony swear colorfully and the clanging of various food items being thrown as Stark slammed the door of the refrigerator and jumped back several feet in surprise. 

Nat couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her chest when she saw him standing there in complete bewilderment, chest still heaving with adrenaline from the scare. 

“What in the literal fuck Natalie!” Tony finally got out in a burst of breath, his hand flying up to rest on the arc reactor in his chest. “I have a fucking heart condition!” 

Natasha snorted at that, the eye roll was completely instinctual. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings Stark. It’s a good thing I’m a reformed assassin, otherwise…” Nat smiled as she trailed off, pretending to examine her nails. 

Tony threw his hands up dramatically as he turned away grumbling incoherently about the audacity of some people and something about traitorous AIs who could have given him a heads up as he started rummaging through the cabinets and pulling out two glasses. 

“Keep that shit up, and I’m going to start sewing microscopic bells into all your clothes. I’d like to see you sneak up on someone while you’re fucking jingling everywhere.” 

Nat tilted her head in contemplation. It would definitely be a challenge, and _incredibly_ annoying, but probably not impossible. She weighed the pros and cons of having to deal with “jingling” clothing versus the satisfaction of seeing Tony’s face when he was proven wrong and decided the effort wasn’t worth the payout. It was a close call though. 

Tony filled both glasses up with ice water and slid one of the full glasses to her across the counter as he took a seat on the opposite side. “So, what are you doing up this late, besides scaring the shit out of me?” Tony asked, his fist propping his head up as he leaned against the table top.

Nat knew she could take the glass of water as an out, finish her light banter with Tony, than head back upstairs as if she was perfectly fine. She would have too, if she hadn’t noticed the dark circles under Tony’s eyes, nearly identical to her own. With a sigh she took the bar stool seat directly across from Tony and mirrored his position, propping her head up on her fist as she took the offered glass. 

“Couldn’t sleep” she said simply. “What about you?” 

“Same.”

They both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, well at least it was comfortable for Nat. Tony, however, wasn’t the type to take comfort in the quiet, especially in the dark. 

“So what’d you come down here for then?” 

“I tried Bruce’s methods of relaxing and they weren’t working, so I was going to do it my way, but Clint stole all of my alcohol,” Nat huffed. 

Tony grinned, slapping both hands on the table suddenly in his enthusiasm as he bound from the table to the fully stocked liquor cabinet in the corner, before rushing back with a full bottle of Stoli and two tumblers. 

“Now you’re speaking my language Red,” Tony said as he broke the seal on the liquor. “I assume vodka is your drink of choice?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow and a megawatt smile. 

“You assumed correctly,” Nat stated, echoing his smile as he began pouring for them both. 

Tony raised his glass in the air, “Cheers”. 

“Na Zdorovie,” Nat clinked her glass against his and downed the contents. She savored the familiar burn of the liquid as it traveled down her throat, feeling the warmth it left in its wake. 

Tony finished his right behind her and started filling up the glasses again. 

“So…” Tony drawled as he cupped his hands around the tumbler, “What keeps the itsy-bitsy spider up at night?” 

Nat kicked Tony under the table, causing him to cry out with exaggerated pain and exasperation, as she brought the alcohol to her lips. 

“If I wanted to talk about my problems, I wouldn’t have come down here looking to make them disappear.” She quipped. 

“So, you admit to having problems. That’s good cause you know the first steps to solving them, Hey!” Tony cried indignantly as Nat swiped the bottle from his hands and took a long pull, foregoing the tedious step of refilling her glass yet again. 

“You know I’m not a completely reformed assassin right?” 

Tony scoffed and took the bottle back from Nat, apparently determined to keep pace with her despite her _enhancements_ which gave her the ability keep up with her more godly teammates and drink the human ones under the table— despite their overly experienced livers. 

The two Avenger’s fell back into a surprisingly peaceful silence, passing the bottle back and forth between them wordlessly. Nat eventually looked down and noticed the previously full bottle was missing a little over three quarters of its contents as she passed the bottle back to Tony. 

Tony took the bottle from Nat again, but instead of bringing the bottle to his lips for the fifth?, eighth?, twentieth? time he just stared at the label as if it contained the answer to one of his engineering problems, but was unable to grasp the concept. 

Tony finally stopped staring at the bottle and lifted his gaze to Nat’s, something unusually serious and heavy in his gray eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never really realized just how young you are, until last week.” 

Nat didn’t know what Tony was going to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. It wasn’t often that Nat found herself unsure of how to respond to someone, but Tony’s random thought left her mind scrambling for a response. Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because Tony rushed to explain his observation. 

“I know, mathematically, how old you are, but it never really registered how much younger you’d have to have been before all this,” Tony gestured widely as if to encapsulate the whole of Avenger’s Tower. “You had a reputation as one of the world’s most notorious femme fatale’s years before you ruined all other assistants for Pepper.” Tony’s mouth quirked up into a faint smile briefly before the weight of his expression pulled his lips down again. “I guess I never really realized the implications of that and what you do until you came home last week after…” he trailed off briefly, finally bringing the bottle back to his lips before sliding it back to Nat. 

Tony took a deep breath and pushed his last words out on the exhale, “You really scared the shit out of us Red. We’re worried about you.” 

Nat felt something inside of her snap as she felt Tony's words slam into her chest. She didn't know if it was the stress of the last few weeks, the confrontation with Fury, the meeting with Pierce, or the alcohol coursing threw her bloodstream; but instead of feeling the comfort or warmth Tony’s confession of concern should have brought her, all she felt was rage. 

“Why!” Nat yelled suddenly, pounding her fists against the table in a desperate act to release some of the burning fury in her veins. “Why does everyone keep saying that! Why is everyone so _concerned_ with my well-being all of a sudden! I don’t want your pity, I don’t understand why everyone keeps treating me like, like, like I’m a _victim_. Like I’m not the monster who’s killed children. Like I haven’t lured men and women to their deaths. Like I haven’t let so many evil people _fuck_ me just so I could pull every last morsel of meaningful information from them before I murdered them. Because I'm just a weapon who was to _weak_ to say no!” 

Natasha could feel her chest heaving like she’d just ran a marathon in full combat gear. She could feel her body shaking with unspent adrenaline as she desperately tried to pull much needed air back into her starving lungs. And just as quickly as the rage came, it left, sucking what little energy she had left straight from her body and causing her to collapse almost boneless back onto her barstool, her head cradled in both hands as she gasped for breath. 

Tony stared at the young woman before him as she unraveled. Her walls thrown down completely for him to see the scared, confused, person underneath her usually iron clad facade for maybe the second time in their whole friendship. Tony, to his credit, kept his calm as the young spy lost hers. 

“Were those your words or Director Fury’s?” he asked directly. 

“Excuse me?” she retorted, venom seeping into her tone. 

“Your words or Fury’s? Because some of that sounded awfully familiar to Fury’s little rant on Monday in the conference room. He called you a weapon, told us some of the things you’d done in the past. But I’ve never given a single flying fuck about what Fury thinks. And you shouldn’t either. You’re Natasha Romanov, and despite being a complete pain in my ass, you’re my friend. And I’m allowed to be concerned for my pain in the ass friends when they are obviously hurting. You may not be ready to accept our help or our concern yet, but you’re getting it whether you like it or not. So just get it through your dense soviet skull that we care about your well-being, we always have, and it has nothing to do with whether you _deserve it_ or not.” 

Tony stared into Nat’s shocked eyes as he reached back across the table and took the bottle back from where it had been sitting dormant in front of her, bringing the bottle to his lips for a slightly longer pull than his previous drinks. 

“Now,” Tony stated clapping his hands together with finality. “Since that's settled and neither one of us is apparently getting any sleep tonight, want to help me put itching powder in all of Clint’s socks?” 


End file.
